It seems like inspiration comes
Sneaking only at night
for in the day I am too occupied. By this this and that, by the stuff of life
Which I suppose is fuel for my fire. I suppose it is all fuel.
I want to spend time Turned On. Tuned In.
But it isn’t a switch, it’s a lesson that says
“Be Turned On in all you do. Tune In whenever you can.”
This is the work- to clear out the noise so the true voice rings in like the clear bell it is
Clear out the chatter before it becomes a thunder, before it covers me in its awful spew and whips me up in its tornado.
Is it a distraction when the baby cries? Or can it be a reminder that says…”come back. Where have you gone? Be with us now.”
Suffer in the beauty of your life.
Is it a distraction when it’s time to make supper?
Nurse the baby?
Feed the cat?
Do the dishes?
Make the beds?
Pay the bills?
Do the laundry?
Do it all…again?
Or is it a call, and a privilege
to experience this beautiful mess
And ourselves, as we react to it.
In the mess of our lives, the choice is ours-
Do we use it as as a vehicle- to become our best Selves? Or as an excuse- to run away from the work we’d rather not do. The work of really feeling, of really seeing, of our glorious imperfection.
She said- there are no such things as mistakes.
And so I picture her inside four beautiful wooden walls-
They are her forever walls, even though nothing is forever.
Except the wisdom of the trees is forever. And of the river.
And I see her, with that box containing wisdom
that comes down the channel we are vessels for
I see this and I believe
There are no mistakes
We are on the right path
And the truth is within us,