The Incorruptable Path

I've spent the last few weeks clutching blankets of fear and grief to my heart as though they could somehow protect me from having to feel what I've fled. Only to learn once again, there is no escape.

I started painting after months of nothing, knowing, 'if not now, when?'. No inspiration or direction, just action. And I took it despite the deafening cacophony of cautions beating down my battlements.

I forgot that art is the open door, where "I" disappears and the truly magical mysteries express with pure, untainted voices.

In my mind were misty visions of beauty... at least it got me moving. I broke through the precious stage yesterday; where it's pretty, but has no defining feature, no voice, no feeling, but I don't want to 'mess it up or do it wrong'. I decided to just trust where it was going and attempted to add the next piece. My son came home from school and said, "MOM, how did you get your HAND on there?? Is that a DEAD person? It's creeping me out!" and I laughed, knowing I was now free to experiment; to open the door wide, throw caution to the wind - or maybe just gently let it go.

Today came with the realization I don't have to please anybody with this or any painting; that I am graced to know there is a path to and from my heart that is essentially incorruptable when I pick up a brush - or for that matter, write without attachment to outcome. That despite the visions my mind provides to move me along, when I let go of caution, my heart (and all the mysteries of the universe) express - no matter what I may wish was appearing. Other than my child, it is the greatest gift I've been given. My gratitude overwhelms me.

Every time I come home again, my thoughts turn to everyone - all of us.... and I wonder how we all keep finding our own lighted path to trust and share.