Starting to feel like a writer…
Sun setting on bleary eyes. All day online workshop, not sure I’ve done that before. Started immediately after morning meditation at 7 AM and ran to just an hour ago. Will do this again tomorrow, though I’m still shaking my head to let my brain re-congeal.
In all of her sincere generosity and kindness, Miss Patience complimented me a ticket into the Hay House Writers Workshop. Halfway through and I’ve never been so smart about the process of taking a book from idea to audience.
Thinking strongly that these journals will find their way to publication at some point, I’m thinking perhaps the one year mark…
The morning started with asking us to identify our “Book Hook.”
I came up with “Finding our way, and our Selves, in troubled times.”
To which Patience added, “The 2020 Journey of a quadriplegic mystic.” David howled later upon hearing this.
I’m enthused by the process, having about eight books in conceptual status has been fine, but now seeing MUCH more clearly the pathway that those go from concept into being creates quite the pipe line of work.
I woke again at what seems to be the standard hour of about 3:30 AM. It feels early and I don’t often feel rested enough, but the opportunity to rise with some fresh energy and meditate in those hours feels like the opportunity of a lifetime.
After practicing for a while the recognition of stillness and bliss in union, I returned prone to resting a little longer. I had clearly drifted off as just moments before my alarm sounded I found myself walking along a hillside near dusk, or dawn. I looked up and to the right towards the tree line and the luminous horizon beyond, there as if in a tree, yet seemingly the size of a tree, a great owl gazed directly back at me.
Those eyes still fresh in mine, some feeling of natural and easy curiosity calmly one with my being, I looked along the horizon and just as the great bird passed from my sight, the monks of my morning alarm began their chanting.
Knowing this was a dream, I said a quiet goodbye to the bird in my heart and awoke.
A beautiful great creature, majestic and brown, familiar eyes, perfectly round and filled with light. This moment of shimmering imagery stepped with me into the day, leaving in its wake a feeling of gratitude, a gift of morning light.
Rising with Stephanie we discovered the source of yesterday’s discomfort had to do with the hole the new backrest on my wheelchair have been wearing into my scapula. It would take someone with more technical skill than my young friend to give me a place to sit today outside of bed.
Fortunately, just back from walking the dog, Patience has just such skills and was happy to lever them in my fortunes. The timing was perfect and just as I was ready to rise, my wheels were waiting.
Positive reflections and some downright pointed direction have begun to trickle in in response to the weeks efforts to define opportunities and intention in line with the recent exercise to discover my next avenues of creative engagement. Eric, Tyler, Sheri, and Dave all came back with encouraging reflections that each complement, in their ways, the macro aspects so nicely mirroring of the “down in the dirt” resume building and gig opportunity farming support coming from Kari.
This is been so much the story of 2020 for me, the looming darkness of the impassable moment shattered by perseverance and the kindness of others. I do not know the outcomes of this moment, but it appears my skin is growing thicker in the sense that the fear response seems dramatically reduced, and already, impossible numbers have become increasingly comprehensible as a dim path emerges faintly through the fog of mind.
I managed the intensity of the lecture and Q&A stream of the webinar with some minor multitasking, checking the pulse of crypto twitter, organizing the return of borrowed tool and kitchen equipment left over from company’s visit, and even a little artwork on the side, taking a recent screenshot of Wednesday’s meditation class and moving it through the filters and brushes software to give it a second life.
Patience is in the kitchen, the sounds of pasta for dinner complementing the Spanish guitar coming over the stereo. Tonight will hopefully be the last night we need to manage the sudden departure of LB, and with luck I’ve begun already to someone to step into that aspect our mandal of care.
David stopped by one point in the day to pick up a shipping box, having decided to return the laptop he thought he needed when his move from turmoil in Virginia left him a bit in the lurch. It was a bit like heart and soul candy to see that familiar smile just bopping casually through the space for a few minutes today.
God gets to know things, we just get to ask questions…