Saturday, October 2, 2010

Trusting peace will come

Okay.

I just have to come out and say it.

I'm going through a spiritual dry spell.

My art doesn't seem to be suffering; this is a piece I created just this morning out of a photo of the remains of a recent boat fire on our street.

But I think my heart is... if not suffering, then... maybe buried?  I'm having trouble tapping into the depths, connecting with that warm sense of spirit that usually fuels me.  And as I look at this image, I see it has a certain Van Gogh quality to it; sort of a frenetic attempt to render something struggling within me.

Part of it is the busy-ness of my life right now; I'm feeling a little frantic about my to-do list.

But I think the root of it is that I'm not saying something that needs to be said, and those unsaid words are swirling around and fermenting, bubbling inside me.  I don't think it's time to say it yet: I need to get more clarity on exactly what it is, what needs to be said, and how to say it clearly in a way that balances love and power.  But that clarity needs to come from a place of peace, not from the swirling, and the swirling is keeping me from dropping down into the peace.

Does any of that make sense?  I feel so disconnected I can't be sure.

But what I DO know is that that peace is still there; that heart knowing that will guide me through to right words is still there, rooted deep inside me, ready and waiting to provide the sustenance and the answers I need.  So clearly faith is not the issue.  But all the usual things I can do to get me back into that space  -- walking, and reading, and meditating, and helping others, and working with my photography -- none of it seems to be getting me there.

Hmm. Perhaps it's enough to just be in the midst of it, to accept that there will be times like this: just keep breathing and trust that this, too, will pass.


...and it's all good.

5 comments:

Maureen said...

I love the image! Given what it's derived from, it's even more amazing.

Sometimes I just write out things I can't say or would not rather speak at the moment; it sometimes then lessens their power or helps me see more clearly.

To paraphrase that quote I ran a few weeks ago, let patience be the reward of "getting there".

Hugs.

Kimberly Mason said...

I do feel as though I have been waiting for you to say something. I'll keep waiting. :))))

Diane Walker said...

Well, I had a related conversation that takes away a little of the sting. But I probably still need to say something -- not to you, though. To both of you I just need to say I LOVE YOU!!!! Thanks so much for being there even when the blog is faltering...

Joyce Wycoff said...

Diane ... if you can create images like this when you are in a dry-spell, we'll all wait with anticipation for your cup to be refilled ... which, as you know, it will. You will ... or will not ... say what you have to say. You will ... or will not ... rebalance your to do list. But, whichever way it goes, you will get past this and we'll be there enjoying every beautiful image you produce and every wisdom you share with us.

Gberger said...

I think your question was answered in your next post (most recent, above this one).

Living in crisis for 10 months told me that the work in front of me IS the next, necessary "art" form. It is not always what we might be looking for, but it is what we are given, and it is enough.