None of my labyrinths are perfect, but I’m not striving for perfection. All of my labyrinths have taken me in, centered me, even when center is north of middle or tucked away in a corner. I leave a labyrinth more present and less afraid of the path before me.
Whether I crush the obstacle, crawl under or over it, or walk away from it, I am enough. And I deserve the good things.
I’m not sensitive to vortexes and energies, but maybe that crest is mine. Maybe I’m connected to ancient eyes that watched those hills, the deepness of their sorrow, the lightness of their joy. I feel those things on that hill when I see the blues in the distance.
I become giddy when I see my pen shadow, and this often shows up in my morning list of gratitudes.
I hope every creative finds themselves in a park-bench moment, witnessing the world love what they’ve created.
I’m not looking to channel my inner duck, cat, or dog. I want to channel my inner wisdom, that reasoned being that I’ve always carried and who has waited patiently for me to tune in. We all have this gift. Let’s use it, even when no one is looking.
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