Here it is! The book in my hands at last after an incredible journey! What generosity I met when writing to people for permissions or endorsements back at the beginning. It was not easy to send out a preliminary copy to respected writers that I had only met through their books. I had to trust that they would be honest and if their reviews were non-supportive that I could continue and not be shattered. Happily the first person I heard from, Jan Phillips, gave a wonderful blurb. Buoyed by this, the task became easier for me. We all need that confirmation when we step out of our small world. Especially for those first steps.
So many first steps and mis-steps to get here!
At the inn I love to see little children, “new walkers” as they move, often atilt, to their parents outstretched arms. They run; they stumble; they fall yet always are so eager to try again. And I recall watching my kids as toddlers building towers with blocks. With each new placement, glee anticipating the tipping point. The blocks would tumble, the kids giggle and then start over. Joy in process.
Life is process, change inherent in all we do. All is changing and we are a part of an evolving experiment, an unfolding process from birth to death and the mystery of before and after. Yet we become attached to something or someone and want to freeze frame moments. We hope to hold on to the good and yet hurry the difficult away. I love the quote, “Sometimes the best thing to do when it is raining is it to let it rain.” We cannot change that about ourselves but it is helpful to remember everything is always moving. Our intentions matter and our responses to what arises as well. And it is helpful to recall that joy in process.
For me, playing with art materials allows that. I do try to play freely accepting “mistakes” letting the process lead me.
Think about your support group, the ones who are there for you when you step out, when you stumble. Create something to honor them: a collage, a letter, an altar.
Represent your inner cheerleader somehow with a symbol, a collage, a poem. I find it helpful to collage encouraging, inspiring words on an image of a flower blooming, or a seed, something that suggests growth and emergence.
Make a nest or safe spot for that vulnerable part of you.
Symbolize home base, a place to return to after forays out.