We say to the universe: I really want this, I do! And the universe, after a little while, sends us a preview, an invitation. Then, it pays attention: can you accept it? Can you sit with the discomfort of this stretch, and breathe through it? Without tearing, without betraying yourself? Can you? It pays close attention. If we are not ready, if we want a little more time of saying: I really want this, I do! The universe kindly allows that space of wanting, for us. Without judgement, without shaming. Until we are ready. And then, the deep dance of co-creation truly begins. Following last Saturday's powerful Idea Party (I strongly suggest you create your own Idea Party right away), it was decided that a group of us would get together this morning and discuss the possibility of starting an Artist's Way group. I had heard about The Artist's Way many times, I had read - and loved - Julia Cameron's book Floor Sample, but never had I had the pull to read her famous book, nor join one of the groups. So when I got to the meeting, this morning, I was basically just ... showing up. I was a bit curious, I didn't know really why I was there. Monday mornings are really busy for me, and I have been playing a whole lot of catch up since I came back from France. Didn't make a whole lot of sense. But there I was. Within two minutes, I tried to make it clear to anyone who cared that I was just here today. That I was just here today, with no commitment to being there next week. I said it enough times (if only in my head) that I had to wonder what I was protecting, and from whom. And then the meeting started and something inside of me began to melt, and open up - and soften. I noticed that I was sitting on the edge of my chair, wanting to grasp every word out of the lovely facilitator's mouth. I didn't want to read my book, I didn't want to talk, I just wanted to listen. And learn. And let it all in. A few days ago, I had made a declaration that I wanted to be the student, somewhere, somehow. I wanted someone to help me fill my well. And of course, these are pretty much exactly the words that were used today. And all that was before we were told to "close our eyes and listen to the prayer." The prayer that found very thirsty places within me, and more than once, threatened to overflow out of my eyes. I committed. Of course. I committed hours which I didn't think I had, hours which I know are going to be essential in shaping the rest of the hours of my next 12 weeks. So here I go. And of course, I am taking you with me. As a start, here is "the" prayer. Oh how I love being surprised, and how I love being humbled. Onward :) O Great Creator, We are gathered together in your name That we may be of greater service to you And to our fellows. We offer ourselves to you as instruments. We open ourselves to your creativity in our lives. We surrender to you our old ideas We welcome your new and more expansive ideas. We trust that you will lead us. We trust that it is safe to follow you. We know that you created us and that creativity Is your nature and our own. We ask you to unfold in our lives According to your plan, not our low self worth. Help us to believe that it is not too late And that we are not too small or too flawed To be healed~ By you and through each other ~ and made whole. Help us to love one another, To nurture each other's unfolding, To encourage each other's growth, And understand each other's fears. Help us to know we are not alone, That we are loved and lovable. Help us to create as an act of worship to you. ~Julia Cameron Some teachers come to us in terribly offensive classrooms. They wake up our Lizards, they remind us of things we had wanted to forget, they trigger us so much that our physiology changes. Upon hearing them, we feel a little sick, a little sticky. We can blame them, of course. That's easy. Or ... maybe, we can thank them. For showing up with their words, and reminding us of how much we have grown, how much more solid our boundaries have become. For showing us the places where we may want to tighten them a little bit more, still. I am going to believe that maybe these are teachers whom I hired, a long time ago, and forgot. I am going to sit with the yucky and I am going to thank it, as it reminds me of what is no longer a fit. And then, I am going to have a really good, really clean day. |
SCARED OF THE SACRED
HAPPINESS SCHOOL:
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