In each moment, I get to choose whether I'll keep scanning/clicking/comparing, reading and reading their words, or whether I will stop and create my own.
I don't know where to begin.
In each moment, I can admire the colors in their beautifully crafted art or I can put on my old, paint-spattered apron, meet all that empty space and begin --one brave, unknowing brushstroke after another.
I'm afraid of all that empty space. What if nothing comes?
In each moment, I can second-guess & resist this calling to make something new, something that can come only from me, or I can begin--one trusting word, one quiet embrace at a time.
What if it's not good enough?
In each moment I can wish I was somewhere else, I can feel overwhelmed with unanswered questions, or I can pause and know that this very breath holds all the secrets, all the answers, all the gifts--infinite possibility...
I worry that I don't have a plan.
Outside, oak trees stand rooted & tall, mossy branches reach up and out to the sun. Birds flap wings and sit on empty winter branches. Sunshine peeks through gray, finally--scatters light all over my cold parts. It feels so good.
The Unimaginable Love that gave me my dreams will also provide the means.
I inhale and am filled with new.
It is here that I am. It is here I that I want to be.