Good morning from the chilly Midwest!
Summer has turned to fall; outside, the air is still and silent, no more children laughing, or cars zooming down the street, sounds carried by waves of humidity wafting off the pavement. No, now, the air barely seems to move, a whisper stroking multi-colored leaves. I've never been a huge fan of autumn, but have come to appreciate the beauty each season brings. Soon, people will be bundled, hurrying from car to store and back again; no one goes outside during a Chicago winter.
After a month of spotty journaling, I'm back to creating oddles of pages. Above is one done after amazingly vivid dreams of me teaching and guiding others; I am filled with a sense that some power larger than myself is along for the ride, sitting beside me as I work toward making these things happen. They are the answers to many prayers for guidence and a clue as to what I am doing.
I originally took the job I have now as a way to have a steady paycheck and health insurance while working on more creative endevors. Now, I find myself working more and more and neglecting art and my writing -- two things that have been presented with so many oppertunities, only I've been too busy or tired to embrase them. Is that how it's supposed to be? I feel as though I've wandered off the path Divinity and I were skipping down, tangled in the brush. They are calling to me, trying to help me find my way back, but I am too frightened and torn-up to keep trying to follow their voice.
Does this make any sense? I find myself questioning more and more in this life I'm living, wondering how I got here. I need a way back to balance in my life; heck, I slept 12 hours last night, so exausted from work yesterday that I could barely move; my body felt so delicate and shattered. I'm not listening to it when it comes to limits, and I thought I'd gotten past that! Now, a promotion may be hiding in the wings, and instead of letting God take care of it, I'm pushing, pushing instead of cutting back, finding balance, figuring things out.
Sometimes, I could just smack myself. Ever feel like that?
So how do we get back? How do we find the faith and strength to get through the bush, back to the path and our waiting companion? Yes, we will get scratched up, and yes, it will be painful, but we have to, don't we? Unless we want life to be a constant struggle, lost out there with only a faint voice telling us it doesn't have to be this way. And here I am, clutching a clear vision from above, and what do I do? Say, "Yes, I will work on it. When I have time," instead of taking it for what it means.
I have to make the little changes that will add up over time. Honor my committments. Do my art. And have faith I'll find my way.