My Cup Runneth Over

I wasn't made for this world. I don't feel equipped enough to deal with what life's become, what people have become. I don't have it in me to keep posing and playing in ways that posing and playing crush and disable my spirit. What a crime against humanity that truly is when you know how it ends for everyone. There are no exceptions.

I think I lost the plot. For a while, you can cruise along like it doesn't matter...about having lost the plot, why you do what you do, what it's all for, whether it actually makes any sense. Truth is, lies build up over time. The tragic part is knowing the lies but continuing on as normal. 

Then I tell myself this is all fuel for something more...something more permanent? That while I might not be privy to the fruits of my labour in this life, it doesn't mean something other than me, will not. I suppose none of it is any of my business. I get that.

Thank goodness for creatives. I used to believe when others said, "Everyone can be creative." I don't believe that anymore. It's like saying everyone can be president. Or, everyone can be a cop. Or, everyone can be a ballerina, a dancer, an acrobat, a babysitter, a dog sitter. No, you can't. 

I am creative. You can see that when you step into my home. You can see it when I put myself together, the way I adorn myself. The adding of colour is intentional. Whether in my home or on my body, which is my home, too...and both for a limited time only. 

All that to say, thank God for this outlet, this path...for that fork in the road that lead to this path on the road to peace...and beauty...acceptance...joy. 

Do you know what happens in that space when you pick up a brush or a pen to create or to write? Magic. I mean, real magic. That's where home is, away from the noise and distractions this life has become. Away from the annoying, judgmental voices of people this world has produced.

Others go on silent retreats to find themselves, to connect with something bigger and wiser than themselves. Creating is my retreat. It's my treat. A treat I give to myself. And do you know what I get at the end of my art session? More treats! Via the retreats...time carved out for sacred moments like these. 

In that quiet space, you interact with the muse. If you're lucky, you forget and remember yourself, at the same time. There is no out there. There's only ever right here. So yeah, you'd better be very precious with who and what you keep 'right here' at all times.

I think it requires a certain kind of loneliness to be on this path. It requires a level of intimacy, too. And you know, not everyone can handle that either. But if you stick with it long enough, you find that this loneliness is transformed. What you gain at the other end is far greater and more profound...and yes, more 'permanent' than what you started with. And better than anything you could have imagined.

One becomes enriched by this inner landscape. One begins to understand that this kind of engagement with oneself is the only real way to freedom, that freedom comes from within and never from without. That the outer is always a reflection of the inner...so, if you don't recognize the outer and want to change it, you have to nurture the inner parts. By nurturing those parts, you attain the whole world and beyond.

So while others are chasing money to acquire more things, let them. When our world crumbles...and it will, what will remain? What will you have built? What will you find in your cup?

I pray that my cup runneth over...