Thursday, October 4, 2012

October 3, 2012

The world is ablaze with season right now, sprinkled, drenched, smeared with colors of the best kind.  Every window becomes a frame for a masterful, temporary work of art.  Today as I drove into town, the residents of Minneapolis were out in full force.  In fact, I believe every bike was biking, every path was filled with walkers, every al fresco chair was filled with diners and afternoon coffee drinkers.  It’s almost like it was the first warm day of the year, when the masses suddenly appear.  Except, it’s probably the last. These people know this and they are soaking it up, every last drop, because not sure if you are familiar with Minnesota winters, but they are not friendly.

Today as the sun danced over the trees of red, yellow, and orange, there was a serious energy,  a rare 80 degree day in October, a gift.

Tomorrow the thermometers will read 40 less than today.

My creativity comes in seasons too and this extended warmth was like a jolt of make, make, make.  There was so much making, so many ideas, which is never a bad thing.   It’s harvest and I was constantly reaping the bounty. 

But, yesterday, I found myself trying to sew items for the shop.  I was frustrated at every turn, the machine was annoying, the colors of thread I needed were gone, everything was a challenge.  I was trying to finish these items so quickly that I was resenting them.  I had lost the sweetness of the creative process and traded it for the end result.  Way wrong answer. We are not machines.  We do not exist for the sole purpose of creating a finished product.  The magic is in the process, in the molding and in the creating.

I walked away from my machine.  I needed a break.  It’s tricky sometimes when your art is also a business, even a tiny, little one like mine.  It’s easy to lose sight of why you are writing, sewing, painting, etc.  Yesterday, I was frenzied and frustrated.  This kept sounding in my head and in my heart.  It was a fresh breath and hope.

It is not by coincidence, that the seasonal shift is in sync with my creativity or rather the other way around.  The colder weather has a way of bringing us in and slowing us down, because we need it.  Circumstances beyond our control take the lead.  We get so busy with busy and life and art and everything that the fall sort of picks us up by the collar, dusts us off and sets us back on the right path.

Seasons are so intentional in that way, the shift of nature, the constant waves of change: life, growth, energy, pause, death, re-birth… and again.

Cease striving and know that I am God. Be still and know that I am God.  This message is everywhere for me, in conversations with friends, in things I’m reading and seeing and feeling.  I can hear the whispers in the rustle and crunch of the leaves, in the color parade of the trees, in the brisk wind warmed by the sun.

We tend to get pretty good at striving, in fact, our days are spent perfecting the art of striving, but this message is life and we are invited to rest in that sustaining power and in it find all that we need.

So that’s where I am again, learning this life long lesson.

October 4, 2012

Today the wind is tearing leaves from branches and composing an emotional song, leaving no loose item untouched.  It reminds me that we are small and that we must let the process happen, we must trust the maker’s hands, and remember that all of our breaths and all of our days are the process.  It’s our story unfolding safely in His hands.


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