into the becoming
I’ve been sitting with ideas that are not yet born. It’s exhilarating. And also deeply uncomfortable. Because these ideas, if they are to be born, are asking me to learn a whole new craft. Several actually. My attention becomes scattered and diffuse.
My mind craves a plan. What will we tackle first? Then what? What is the order of operations here?
It’s a very masculine approach. To assume and desire that linearity. Even the language is aggressive. Tackle.
These are humbling moments. And so I start again. Reprogramming my mind. Inviting in the feminine. Slowing down. Feeling into it. Daydreaming. Setting aside the tackle. Inviting in the flow.
Because whatever creative projects are to be born of this, though worthy and valued, are beside the point. The point is the process by which they come to be. And even more so, the point is the growth that it requires. The process invites me to grow and evolve and face fears and surrender and flow. To become my next version. Over and over again.
For so long, I thought the objects were the point. The art. The result. The desired outcome. Though beautiful, they were never the point.
And once again, making is teaching me lessons I know to be true elsewhere.
In yoga, the postures are not the point. It’s who those postures are asking me to become in that moment of discomfort. Can I stay? Can I find ease through breath? Can I be present in all the sensation?
In sobriety, it’s not the not drinking. It’s who I become in order to be a person who can be present in her life, who doesn’t need to numb, to check out, to escape.
Over and over, we are invited into the becoming.
We meet, embrace, and leave behind versions of ourselves along the way.
And not because our current version is inadequate. But because this is what it means to be human. Embodied here in this realm, this earth school.
And so my current self awaits to meet her next version. Eagerly. Awkwardly. As one does.