I breathe – a poem

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I’ve been more intentional with my meditation practice recently. I’ve been “open sitting” – just sitting and observing my thoughts. Not trying to change them. Not judging them. Not trying to let them go and find any kind of liminal space (though I’ve been there, and… wow).

After I sit, I’ve started journalling. I’ve been interested in the practice of writing morning pages after hearing about Julia Cameron’s The Artists Way practice. Also Srini Rao from the Unmistakable Creative who has this same practice. It was this quote of his that got me:

 

You can’t rely on inspiration if you’re going to have a thriving creative life.

The muse is a fickle mistress with a turbulent temperament. She only shows up when she’s in the mood, but expects you to show up all the time.

 

Hmmm. Interesting. Indeed inspiration only strikes me from time to time – and when I feel it, hear it, I stop what I’m doing and write. It’s those moments of ‘big magic’ that produce my best work. I figured I’d listen for the muse, feel the magic, and that would be my time. But Julia and Srini make a good point – if I’m in the middle of my kids’ school assembly, or a client brainstorm session, or a walk on the beach when inspiration strikes, I won’t be in a position to stop, drop and roll into writing mode.

So, I’ve been meditating. And I’ve been writing. Every morning. And what’s coming out is poetry. This is new to me, and I’m rolling with it.

Here’s my latest. Short. Simple. I hope it gives you a moment of remembrance, as it did me when I read the words that had flowed.

 

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