I sit here and write, then delete an entire page, after which I spend a good 45 minutes looking for patio furniture (a good rug and a meditation cushion, I have this grand plan to meditate by the sunrise out on the patio, all I need is the ground really, but anyway, I found the rug and I have cushions, so I could have been done in 5 minutes but I had to look at the seating, and the daybeds and the planters… procrastinating much?), and then I start again. It’s been a while since I last posted and it is time to get back into it. On my walks during my son’s practices, when I’m not on the phone, I have been listening to Elizabeth Gilbert’s book on creativity, Big Magic: Creative Living Beyond Fear, as she narrates, it feels like having a conversation with a friend, she speaks so sincerely and energetically, I find myself sometimes laughing, or nodding my head, or rolling my eyes… I am inspired and encouraged to play, again and again, and convinced that this is what we live for. It is an energizing book, do read, it’ll take you to places…
Last week we went on a trip to Sedona (a truly enjoyable trip really, with two dear friends and us), a town full of spirituality, but strangely, and much to our disappointment, would vote for Trump who is the opposite of loving kindness, goodness, acceptance, openness which I thought spirituality represents. So I don’t know about the people of Sedona, but the land is enchanting with its glorious red rocks, green junipers and vast skies. It is humbling to hike and then to sit on a rock looking at the vast landscape and realize we’re a part of (and a tiny part really) an infinite universe. It is liberating too. I noticed my troubles left me as soon as I saw that view, my petty worries had no place in this communion of the ever-changing skies, the sun, the stars, the ever so patient trees, the strong rocks looking different with every shade, every shadow as the sun moved, and the people walking in awe, admiring it all, and annoying each other (at times it was crowded, not close contact, but loud).
And I felt magic touching a juniper tree, a twisted one around one of the most amazing views. My friend did too. So there is something there. A voice in me cried, when I asked for guidance, ‘you are not ready yet, but the world is so much more magical than you ever dreamed of’, something along the lines of that. And I wondered whether that first part was me holding me back, again, while the second part was not really news, because we know it, don’t we, especially when we step into nature.
Will I dare to wake up to magic? Will I dare to seek it, find it, share it? I intend to. Will you?
