Whispering amen

"Art is imagination at play in the fields of time." - Julia Cameron

So now the ice is broken, an iron curtain crossed: from private introspection, years of gathering resources - to a small, public sphere. Strength expands like a parachute. Glide down with it now, through the atmosphere, and then below, as a soul’s purpose deepens. Strange, I thought myself a private person; yet now, out here, exposed, I am more myself than I have ever been, with so much given, undeserved. Where to place this gratitude? My head spins. I am falling; I am found. Finally, I am beginning now, to be.

A purpose emerges: give words to the things that so often elude words. Catch the dust that falls between the details of a day, and watch it glow. Speak for things that are pointless, that are only games; remember that play is divine, dancing with us.

Live here, if nowhere else: in words, in strings of letters on a page. Continue as you have been: hovering somewhere outside of the space that the body occupies, between the exhaled breath and the atmosphere.

Photo provided by yiseol you on flickr under a Creative Commons license.