I am still here, on my Trail of Storytelling, in the dark forest of my fears. If a wide path suddenly opened to left or right and I could see an easy, well-lighted, friendly passage that would get me out of here - I admit, I'd stay on my trail. If a bright light that suddenly blinded me but showed me how to climb above the canopy to a higher, brighter plain -- I must confess, I'd raise my hand to hood my eyes, and stay firmly on the ground.
I am happy here.
I've traveled the broad highway and even come close to Enlightenment. But I'm happiest here, in the fearsome forest of creating story.
Sometimes, usually in the murkiest moments, when I just want to sit down in the bole of an ancient tree and become part of it, something happens to encourage me. A ray of light exposes safe passage on the path, a butterfly shows the way through a dense tangle, the trail itself smooths for a few paces, making traveling easier.
Today I feel drawn forward, willing once again to take steps, to tighten my pack for the new tools and new adventures ahead.
Whatever else happens around me, I want very much to stay on my trail in the forest.
What do your fears look like: a forest, desert, ocean? Have you ever abandoned a treasured "calling" for another?
Friday, January 30, 2009
Friday, January 23, 2009
My Artistic Way
I often think of myself as being on a path, surrounded by dense forest, thick with deadfall and brambles.
I can barely see ahead through the deep shadows, the twists of the trail. The forest is generally silent around me on the Trail of my Life's Calling. In the distance, I hear bird song, snapping twigs, even an occasional growl. I have no idea what will occur on the next bend of the path. Will the murk become murkier? The sun more obscured? Light more diffused? Will danger be there, laying in wait? A stalking mountain lion? A serial killer? An enraged bear? Or will the danger be more subtle: poison berries flashing colorful hope when I'm starving, a trickle of water with malicious bacteria when I'm thirsty, a leaf-covered root rising up to twist my ankle or break my leg when I'm in a hurry?
This forest is a dark, unknown, frightening place. It is made up of all human, primal and personal fears. The trees are set against me; their sprouts and sidekick bushes strategically placed to stall my progress.
What a dim, dreadful picture!
And yet ...
And yet ...
I'm still here, in this forest, taking steps on my personal path.
Have you ever found yourself on a murky path, stepping forward toward an unknown but precious hobby?
I can barely see ahead through the deep shadows, the twists of the trail. The forest is generally silent around me on the Trail of my Life's Calling. In the distance, I hear bird song, snapping twigs, even an occasional growl. I have no idea what will occur on the next bend of the path. Will the murk become murkier? The sun more obscured? Light more diffused? Will danger be there, laying in wait? A stalking mountain lion? A serial killer? An enraged bear? Or will the danger be more subtle: poison berries flashing colorful hope when I'm starving, a trickle of water with malicious bacteria when I'm thirsty, a leaf-covered root rising up to twist my ankle or break my leg when I'm in a hurry?
This forest is a dark, unknown, frightening place. It is made up of all human, primal and personal fears. The trees are set against me; their sprouts and sidekick bushes strategically placed to stall my progress.
What a dim, dreadful picture!
And yet ...
And yet ...
I'm still here, in this forest, taking steps on my personal path.
Have you ever found yourself on a murky path, stepping forward toward an unknown but precious hobby?
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
New Year's Resolution 2009
Each year I choose one coffee cup. I use that cup all year, every morning. It reminds me of my one great goal, or resolution, for that year.
One year I chose a cup which said, "Home Sweet Home" and my goal was that my family, my kids in particular, would be more polite and considerate. That year I encouraged our family to say "please" and "thank you" to each other. I encouraged thoughtfulness and peace in our home. At the end of the year, it seemed to me that we were all kinder, more considerate people. I felt my goal had been achieved.
Another year I chose a cup with a nice house on it. We had purchased undeveloped property outside town and were hoping to have some sort of living quarters there. I wanted a house there. My goal was a new house. In November of that year, we moved into the used double-wide trailer we'd set up on the property. We became country folk. My goal was achieved.
Having the coffee cup, and one single goal, has helped me actually accomplish goals over the years. It's a way of focusing, without being nagged and without despair. I usually have all year, after all, so I feel comfortable about working on the goal. I'm not resolving to lose 10 pounds in January or to change my life in 10 ways. I just resolve to accomplish one thing and I use a coffee cup to remind me of that resolution.
My cup this year: whirling dervishes, masters of controlled spiritual ecstacy, to help me improve my writing, to create stories which give readers a feeling of ecstacy.
One year I chose a cup which said, "Home Sweet Home" and my goal was that my family, my kids in particular, would be more polite and considerate. That year I encouraged our family to say "please" and "thank you" to each other. I encouraged thoughtfulness and peace in our home. At the end of the year, it seemed to me that we were all kinder, more considerate people. I felt my goal had been achieved.
Another year I chose a cup with a nice house on it. We had purchased undeveloped property outside town and were hoping to have some sort of living quarters there. I wanted a house there. My goal was a new house. In November of that year, we moved into the used double-wide trailer we'd set up on the property. We became country folk. My goal was achieved.
Having the coffee cup, and one single goal, has helped me actually accomplish goals over the years. It's a way of focusing, without being nagged and without despair. I usually have all year, after all, so I feel comfortable about working on the goal. I'm not resolving to lose 10 pounds in January or to change my life in 10 ways. I just resolve to accomplish one thing and I use a coffee cup to remind me of that resolution.
My cup this year: whirling dervishes, masters of controlled spiritual ecstacy, to help me improve my writing, to create stories which give readers a feeling of ecstacy.
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| From blog pix, Jan 09 |
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