Most days I wake up with urgency, there is so much left to do. I am not talking housework, but people to be with, places to go, books to read, paint to be splashed upon canvas and important things to say through writing. There is so much to discover.
As I try to rein in time that seems to move much too fast during these summer weeks, I collect images. Early morning coffee with my husband surrounded by growing color in the garden, fast swims avoiding a face to face after the sighting of “a snapping turtle with big teeth,” the describer holding her curved arms in front to show the creature’s size- much larger than a basketball hoop. This makes us swim faster. Lazy afternoons on the porch, everyone reading the warm breeze and carefree hours infuse us with gratitude. Lobster bakes, bumpy boat rides to “our secluded beach” the water warm and rimmed in a curve of pink granite nuggets.
The hours gifted devoted to writing have been precious. Sometimes, I wake in fear the urgency gone, wondering if my words are worthy. I stare at a white monitor, breathing deeply, searching for trust that words will come. Eventually.
Living is an act of trust. All the creative avenues, drawing, painting, capturing life through photographic images, and writing have helped me to loosen my grip over trying to control my life. If only, I can be open to the gifts. I do not want to miss a thing. Creative expression is a spiritual act, one that puts you in touch with the Universe and trust. Fear and trust cannot coexist.