I’m lying low these days and taking advantage of the cold and wintry season to soak in the writings and reflections of others. I’ve felt spent with no words of my own, like what my fellow blogger Andrea Stephenson speaks about in “Anatomy of Creation”,
“My creativity was stripped back and emptied out. Now, I’m armed only with dreams and bones.”
Maybe, it’s a way of discovering and nurturing dreams I didn’t know I had and the making of new decisions. I like what she follows up in saying:
“I’ve seen the patterns begin to emerge – one idea building upon another, unlikely links forming, layer on layer, becoming seeds of something soon to be born.”
I’m feeding and drawing on the wisdom and energy of authors in so many good books at my disposal in hubby’s library. I didn’t know it would feel this good to read all day, fantasizing, caught up in another world. It has been exactly what I’ve needed and I’m being inspired.
I’m enjoying this dormant place with an occasional spark of excitement for new things to come, of which I have no knowledge. In retrospect, as I pan over my life, I suppose I can feel what Maya Angelou wrote, “Wouldn’t take nothing for my journey now.”
Friday, I am going in for an eye appointment for another consultation on cataract surgery. I can’t help but feel this has been part of the journey in a life-long dream to see clear. I don’t know that I’ve ever known what that has felt like.
I’ve always experienced some compromises in correcting my vision but the stress I’ve felt in this process has been surprisingly emotional. I’m confident in knowing I’ve done my research and I’m now on the right path. It’s one of those new decisions bound to make a huge difference in my life.
Some of what I’ve taken from the things I’ve read over the past several months is that we’re important and connected, no matter how much of it we understand. Just as Sue Hubbell talked about with her bees’ sudden change of direction in her book “A Country Year”, there is a voice speaking to even some of the most miniscule creatures giving guidance and direction. We just need to be open to hear it.
I’m listening and opening my ears, more and more, every day to hear, feel and witness the miracles of life. It’s in the stillness, when my soul is touched, and I take comfort that voice will be there for me, as well, in the decisions I make and how my life unfolds.
The journey is good and wouldn’t take nothin’ for it, plugging along inviting the miraculous. How about you and your life’s journey? Are you beginning to stir and feel the life coming back about ready to change? I’d like to hear about it.
Pat from the ol’ kitchen table