I remembered how much I ache to write.
"And then I remembered why I have read and written all of my life. I remembered how much I ache to write. “We write to retrieve what is lost,”. When we write or paint we retrieve parts of ourselves we did not even know were lost. Receiving others creative expressions, open ourselves to a deeper wisdom.
Life is too short to always be working, even if your work is enjoyable. If you turn everything you enjoy into work you can become good at, offer to the world and maybe even get paid for, you can end up always working. So, while lots of folks have to ask themselves what they would love to do if they could get paid for what they love to do.
Because the human mind, heart, body and spirit needs fun, needs some silly time. Silliness heals. Play protects us from taking ourselves too seriously. I notice the children running in the playground, the tree by my window in bloom. I am surprised how life works within me, on me, without my conscious agreement. We have a choice. We can shrink in the face of wounding - or we can inhale deeply, link arms with each other and enlarge our capacity to meet it all - the joy and the sorrow. We are life, choosing life. That is how we are made.
But inner ease is not: not wanting to be anywhere else; not making lists; not worrying about what comes next or happened yesterday. So I'm breathing into my heart, crying when I need to, talking to friends when I need and reminding myself to be kind - to myself and to others."
(extracts from Oriah Mountain Dreamer)