Do you ever tire of learning the same
lesson time and again? I certainly do, though often the relief I feel
at being freed from whatever trap I've made for myself is ample
compensation.
Case in point: I've just scrapped an essay that was not to be~~this after putting an inordinate amount of
time into it, pushing and shoving words around the page like a bully
in the schoolyard. But these words were no cowed first
graders. Like every other living thing~~you, a musical score, or the
Christmas cactus pinkly blooming on the bookcase across the
room~~words are containers that need a lively fire to thrive.
I'd forgotten the fire. I'd shown up at
the page knowing what I would write, believing I was in charge of the
process. A couple of ideas had come to me, and I'd set out to weave
them together as I saw fit. But the words were having none of it.
They were perfectly good words, mind you, but without an authentic
life breath, they were weary and banged against each other in a most
jarring fashion. Instead of a pleasing product, I'd
created only a tangled mess of wordy threads. And the harder I tried,
the messier the tangle became.
Luckily, during a lunchtime break, my
vision cleared. I vowed to stop doggedly trying to force what wasn't
working. Surrender happened, and brought with it a welcomed release. And a chuckle. You see, I'll be
facilitating a writing workshop next week whose main thrust is
helping folks step into the creative flow and let it carry them. And
here I'd spent my afternoon stubbornly paddling against the current. So I pulled my dinged and dingy dinghy
onto the bank and sat, gazing back at the flowing waters~~and found
my essay.
All spiritual traditions urge us to
live in harmony with a greater flow, but so often we try to force
life to fit our intent. It's that pesky free will thing. Life's sweet energy flows through each
of us, and our task is to direct it skillfully. We aren't asked to
relinquish our individual wills, for that would be to refuse the
gift. We're only to sense the larger flux and move with it in a way
uniquely our own.
We've just celebrated Martin Luther
King Day, a time to honor those who have aligned their small wills
with a larger pulse, allowing miracles to move through them. The Voting Rights Act of 1965. The
ozone hole over Antarctica shrinking due to international limits on
PFCs. Same sex marriage now legal in 36 states. Malaria deaths in
Africa dropping an amazing 54% since the year 2000. Miracles do happen. And they happen
when individual wills are aligned with the larger flow.
By virtue of being alive, we are
immersed in that dynamism. It fills each molecule of our bodies and
every particle of our souls. All we need is to fully receive it, and
let it inspire our actions. Then magic will happen.
Here's to magic!
Leia Marie
For anyone in southern Colorado who would like to take part in Cascade: A Writing Workshop, please zap me an email at fromthezafu@mac.com. And for those who live in other parts of this gorgeous planet yet are interested nonetheless, please let me know. An online writing workshop is always a possibility. Blessings!
2 comments:
Indeed here is to magic! I find myself pushing and pulling my life, rather than letting it flow freely. Here's to a river of ideas.
Imagine what could happen if we trusted that magic! We'd let that Flow carry us, without all the needless pushing and pulling. Let's welcome those moments when we remember, feed and water them that they might grow in number and strength. Amen!
Thanks for reading and writing.
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