None who Wander are Lost
It’s been a long time since I’ve posted here… I’ve all but retired this blog, but I just happened to pop on over today. As I read my most recent post – way back in March of this year – I couldn’t help but reflect on how much as changed since then. Man, March feels as though it was years ago. I’ve spent the past year and a half pretty much lost since my fiancé died. Understandably so I guess. How could you NOT be lost after losing the most important person in your daily life and future? I’ve done the only thing I knew to do… create. A LOT. Art and writing and exposing myself to the art of others has all but consumed my days and filled them with some deep meaning in the midst of brutal pain. Creativity and the support of the people in my life are the two things that have kept me going. But there’s always been this voice nagging me, I’ve got to begin to move forward. I left my career after all, with NO plan really, so at some point I’ve got to have a new direction and begin to support myself again. I can’t very well live off the support of my family forever. And in the past few weeks, something has begun to click. I see a direction for the first time since he died. And really, I see a direction for the first time in my life that feels like what I was put here to do. With that, I’ve started to have a little hindsight that I figured I would share here.
Be careful about listening to that voice that tells you that you that something is wrong because you haven’t found THE thing you should be doing with your life. If you’re one of those people, then you may just be in a place like I’ve been…. lost. But lost really isn’t a bad place – its an absolutely necessary place. In your search, you have to try on a lot of different shoes and hats and gloves to begin to find something that works. Some find it quicker than others. Some always know it, but a lot of us have to spent years coming back to it. I’ve tried dozens of creative avenues in the past 16 months (and even more before that). Jewelry making, painting, encaustic or wax painting… I took another welding class and of course I’ve continued with my two greatest loves – photography and writing. I’ve done some art shows and considered being a writer and what kind of writer I would be if I were one. And the problem? I seriously love and enjoy ALL of these things but have NO motivation to make any of them my career. Well crap.
What I’m learning now is that there was a reason for this inability to commit. It’s not because I’m lazy. It’s not because I’m not trying hard enough or because something is inherently wrong with me (despite countless times I have convinced myself of all three of those). In fact, just the opposite… as it turns out, I was actually listening to my intuition all along. When it told me that wasn’t the path for me by cutting off my motivation for something, I listened and went to the next thing that excited me instead of trying to force something. After 16 months of following the winding, twisted path that intuition has led me on, I’m beginning to see that this is how we get there. It is never a straight road is it? It’s always a winding path through the forest.
By trying my best to trust my intuition, and taking action to step into whatever excites me, slowly and very quietly, a new direction has emerged. What I really want to be doing – and what I believe and can see that I am meant to be doing – is helping others to express their pain through art. By creating a safe and inspiring environment and guiding them through certain activities that have helped me to get grounded into my own emotions, I can help them to go to a place deep in themselves and use creativity to explore it. And to my surprise, I will indeed be using all of the many myriad of art forms that I have experimented with this past year. ALL of the things I love will come together into one cohesive direction over time, or at least a very good amount of it. I’ve only just begun, so I still don’t know where the rest of this winding path will go, but the fog has cleared a bit and given me room to see.
It’s nearly impossible to see how such things will fit together when we are in the middle of it. Especially if we are juggling grief, trauma, or even just the everyday stresses of life. But that’s the great thing about intuition – its not down there in the thick of it with you. Our intuition, I like to believe, is somewhere above us, able to see our life and our path from a higher vantage point. Eventually, if we listen to it long enough, we get to higher ground ourselves and can begin to see what was going on. We can see that every single twist and turn was an important piece of the way forward. It takes a huge amount of faith though, to continue to wander without knowing your exact course or direction. It takes an incredible amount of trust that forces outside of yourself can and do help you on your journey. It takes letting go, and then letting go again, and then letting go even more.
I guess that’s why I’m writing this, to say to someone else out there to keep having faith. Keep trusting and keep moving in the directions that excite you, heal you, and fill you with wonder. Even if the fog is so thick you can’t see… remember that your intuition is above all that and it is there to help you if you will let it. Just follow the sound of it ten more feet. And then listen again, and follow the next sound it gives you (even if it takes you back the direction you just came). It will still feel like you are going in a million directions, but your intuition will know all along exactly where to lead you. Trust that it can see the bigger picture and just listen.