I feel as though I’ve let out a breath—a breath I didn’t know I was holding. When had it started? When I was one, sixteen, thirty, sixty-four? I honestly don’t know, but it was deep and old, ancient perhaps. Mammalian?
A Meaningful Life
What Does It Mean to be an Artist?
My life demands something of me: Not that I be fearless but that, if I am afraid, I face it. It asks me to stand in the self-doubt and the fear, to get comfortable there, to know I am human and this is part of it, to have compassion.
Trusting the Process of Life
I wish for all of us the pursuit of our dreams and the blessing of parents who grant them; to BE the parents who grant them, and the friends who support them. May we all live within our greatest possibilities and trust the process of life.
Day Trip
The trip was filled with ghosts and they or the land, or both, gripped my soul on this sunny New Mexico day when Kim and I journeyed back in time and experienced the conceived utopia of another era and a sense of the lives lived within it, in old houses and on ancient land.
Be Kind to the Suffering
My life has been perfectly imagined into being, likely by the child I used to be, toddling on the beach with my Great-Grandma Casson, herself an artist—a painter and a songwriter. So I guess my wishes have come true, many of them. I just didn’t notice them when they did.
Continuing
So let’s take this occasion and make the effort to deeply seek out our core during our present unprecedented time of stopping. Let’s breathe. Let’s pay attention to the certainty that is revealed now that we’re quiet.
How Do We Grow?
What is it about the dark emotions that repel me? Why do I resist and deny them, even hide myself away when I’m in them? They are part of being human.