Creating a life takes time and as time goes by the things you want in your life change. It’s always okay to slow down, take a break, re-examine your priorities and your life. The energy of life is always going to be in motion. There is no final goal, no final destination, just a continuous flow of energy around which you can and should take time to create a beautiful life.
I took a break from my hectic life to re-examine my priorities and lean toward when I am the happiest. That reset has me including lots of painting and writing in my life along with solid and true friendships. I also leave plenty of time for hiking, gardening and beach walks.
During a recent hiking adventure in Zion National Park I wrote about some of my feelings while I was on the trails.
Taylor Creek winds endlessly thru the narrow box canyon. Hikers must crisscross the creek many times to stay on the trail. Everyone crosses in a different style.
Over-balanced, arms swinging wildly overhead.
In flight, jumping quickly from rock to log to rock.
Confident and surefooted, looking ahead for the next step.
Back and forth across the creek we continue on the trail. Aware of all the natural beauty surrounding us. Transported to another time and place…until we’re brought back suddenly by voices rising up in delight and surprise. Others are finding their own way across.
Further along, the creek widens and deepens. The small rocks we traversed for our crossings are replaced with boulders and logs. I can sense the group's tension in the air. How will this crossing take place. No longer does the water whisper, babble or sing. Now it roars, shouts and churns in frothy whirlpools. Crossing is now a challenge set before us. We steady ourselves in this turbulent atmosphere and quickly make our way safely across. These different crossings have me thinking about life and how life is this flowing body of water, sometimes slow and steady and easy to navigate. But at a moments notice, it can suddenly be unsettled and confusing, causing us to slow down, become aware and make plans.
The last bits of early summer daylight reflect off the surface of Millers Pond. The sky in the pond is a beautiful mix of cerulean blue, titanium white and yellow ochre. Silhouettes of tall eucalyptus trees stand nearby, the breeze bending their canopy. They appear to be gazing at themselves in the mirror. A few ducks swim by, close to the reeds that fill the swampy edges. The air is warm and the earth still radiates the heat of midday. A favorite time of day for a walk.
Sitting down to write at my dining room table, I start to notice the details around me. The table; wood - sturdy - marked surface - solid legs. The hutch; glass cabinet above wood - shelves decorated with pictures and dishes and found treasures. Memories of the past mingle with the present. The most recent addition, a feather from my patio. I notice it right away, not even a step out the door. As if waiting for me. It’s soft, weightless form distinct in structure and purpose. I gently place it in the hutch, on the shelf next to the photo of my grandmother.
30"h x 24"w