Some say that writing must come from sitting down and practicing, determined to make it happen.
But mine has always come from nothingness.
It has always come from a place of silence within myself.
From this place, an idea, an inspiration–with a literal in breath–brings a burst of energy that gives me the strength to write. Whether to physically move myself and type the words, or to simply allow them to be written in my mind, a gentle offering from my heart, and trusting they’re somehow written in the fabric of space and time.
And that’s how it started; how I learned that I love to write.
Even this piece that I’m writing to you now–I wanted to go back to bed, but these words wanted to be written instead.
Nothingness is the space where the where the flower blossoms. It is the life-giving spring where the water runs clear. A place of beauty and nourishment to be steeped in, that becomes the force, the very current of life, that moves you and carries you to all that’s meant for you.
May you allow yourself to be moved–to bend and to flow, and follow what you know.
This is the place where miracles unfold. And where you see the greatest miracle, the one that lives and breathes as YOU.
And also, if you’ve ever seen fish trying to swim upstream; holy cow. I still remember the time we visited the locks after first moving to Portland. And I can still see this one little fish; I felt so mesmerized, and then shocked, watching his little fins move at warp speed, only to gain just enough momentum to remain in the exact same spot.
Fighting against the current requires you to work ten times as hard, just to try to stay in the same place. Where, if you turn around, ah, you’re smooth sailing; blazing forward with the force of freedom on your side.
So in honor of this little fish, may we flow with freedom. May we trust that it knows where to go. And may we trust that it wants only good for us; that it’s helping us to blossom, and grow.
All the best and brightest wishes to you, now and always.
November 10, 2019