Thursday, January 24, 2013
Around in the world...completing graduate school in two months. Which is simultaneously worlds and seconds away from tonight.
And oh doesn't it seem like the Universe is regularly prodding at me with reminders of how very inattentive and otherwise-occupied I've been since I moved to San Diego. Reminders (pinging just a little louder in the depths of the submarine) that among all the changes coming down the pike I really cannot continue functioning at this lowered spiritual level. Won't.
This is not to say my searching's been dormant--I've made many discoveries here, found hopeful new entrances onto branches of my paths I thought inaccessible, found myself surprised by awareness and encounters--so many worth recalling and writing. (Seder '11 &; '12, Burning Man, Kol Eliyahu, contact improv, Athena and Pele, the owl, the ravens, the Pacific frickin' Ocean...)
But all these moments have felt disconnected--strung very tenuously to each other through the overbearing bulk of What I'm Here To Do. Thinking of it now, though, I realize that, tenuous though those strands may be, they're there. And remembering is re-awakening.
My soul is thirsty, I think.
I can feel the press of reminder in the incredible stories of my friends' journeys and discoveries, in half-thought ideas and conversations, in a new-developing relationship with my own body, in my mind and in my heart.
But right now? I have a degree to complete. A show to make. Projects, projects, production...And every reminder is a little bit of a sharp stab in the inbalance. Like--
Well, like a reminder.
And I'm trying to keep it from feeling like guilt. Whispering back,
"Shh. Soon--"
To quiet my soul,
which is very, very thirsty.
(Because sometimes, my dear, the work of the hands both is and is not the work of the heart.)
And oh doesn't it seem like the Universe is regularly prodding at me with reminders of how very inattentive and otherwise-occupied I've been since I moved to San Diego. Reminders (pinging just a little louder in the depths of the submarine) that among all the changes coming down the pike I really cannot continue functioning at this lowered spiritual level. Won't.
This is not to say my searching's been dormant--I've made many discoveries here, found hopeful new entrances onto branches of my paths I thought inaccessible, found myself surprised by awareness and encounters--so many worth recalling and writing. (Seder '11 &; '12, Burning Man, Kol Eliyahu, contact improv, Athena and Pele, the owl, the ravens, the Pacific frickin' Ocean...)
But all these moments have felt disconnected--strung very tenuously to each other through the overbearing bulk of What I'm Here To Do. Thinking of it now, though, I realize that, tenuous though those strands may be, they're there. And remembering is re-awakening.
My soul is thirsty, I think.
I can feel the press of reminder in the incredible stories of my friends' journeys and discoveries, in half-thought ideas and conversations, in a new-developing relationship with my own body, in my mind and in my heart.
But right now? I have a degree to complete. A show to make. Projects, projects, production...And every reminder is a little bit of a sharp stab in the inbalance. Like--
Well, like a reminder.
And I'm trying to keep it from feeling like guilt. Whispering back,
"Shh. Soon--"
To quiet my soul,
which is very, very thirsty.
(Because sometimes, my dear, the work of the hands both is and is not the work of the heart.)