Friday, August 20, 2010
august 20 - clues (and a Weekly Reflection #32)
What in your life is calling you? When all the noise is silenced, the meetings adjourned, the lists laid aside, and the wild iris blooms by itself in the dark forest, what still pulls on your soul? In the silence between your heartbeats hides a summons. Do you hear it? Name it, if you must, or leave it forever nameless, but why pretend it is not there?
- The Terma Collective, "The Box: Remembering the Gift" (quoted in Creative Awakenings by Sheri Gaynor)
What is calling me?
I am trying to cultivate my intuition or rather my ability to discern what is an intuitive prompting and what is fear or my Big Brain trying to sidetrack me. It isn't easy, my brain, she is quick and crafty and a master of disguise. But I am committing to daily practice.
While on vacation, one exercise I created for myself was my Creativity Map. I wanted to revisit and mark down the milestones in my artistic journey. I didn't spend a lot of time on the "arty" part of the spread; I wanted the random application of color to guide me in mapping out my art inspirations and the focus for me was to reflect upon what I now understand are seminal moments in my journey of creative discovery.
This first "map" is really just a beginning. But one thing I took away from it was a realization of how important my mother's creative practices were in creating a foundation for my creative interests. One of my earliest art memories is not of me painting or drawing, but me coveting my mother's box of 64 pristine pointed Crayola crayons. Yes, while I had a large plastic box filled with broken, worn down crayons all mixed up, my mother had her own set that she kept hidden from me. Yes, my mother hoarded her crayons.
Today, I still go into a mini trance whenever faced with a plethora of art or crafting supplies. I gaze reverently at the display of neatly arranged Liquitex tubes; brush my fingers lovingly across the Caran D'Ache boxes of watercolor crayons; and wipe away the drool that pools at the corners of my mouth whenever standing before bins of hand dyed and colored yarn or stacks of watercolor paint sets.
What is calling me? The desire to loose myself in all that color! To drink in deep the richness, the abundance that is life and merge myself with it. To transform those materials into my own expression of beauty and joy. To join in on the great dance and be willing to shake things up and shed my skin, be vulnerable, raw and new until a new one forms.
What pulls on my soul? To know myself as truly abundant, possibilities endless, connected and on fire.
What calls to you?