A Fog with a Light Shining Through

 

Seeds. Destiny. Love. Motion. Walls. 

     There's a haze of intentions and questions building inside my mind. I'm a Creative. I plant seeds, throwing them to the wind, nurturing them, growing more seeds. I do not gain greatness from what grows, I simply have the intention to create atmospheres, progressive systems that grow, and music. 

     Here is a poem that I wrote a decade ago. I also wrote a work for acapella choir that I've sung in small places and great cathedrals based on this poem.

Throwing Seeds

I breathe song into the day.

I breathe light into the night.

I scatter seeds -

throwing them into the wind,

planting them with a firm hand

in rich earth,

nestling them gently in loam,

in minds,

in hearts.

What I plant, I nurture.

What I nurture grows away from me and I start again.

     Lately, I've been growing myself with the intention to be joyful as I identified key elements of what stokes my fire. I've been on my own, finding my love for myself. What I've found is that creating atmospheres for people that allow them to feel, progress, and grow, brings me bliss. I am efficient at creating these atmospheres, but if musically I'm not at the front of the stage, I cannot see it happening. When composing music, I create and anyone can perform and recreate the atmosphere, which I love. When I coach, I have a hands-on connection to share my healing ability.

     I've been happy. I've been making new connections with people as well. I love myself and perhaps I will not be alone after all. I've been finding ways to tear down my own walls. 

     Yet more walls of thick fog seem to erect themselves. Out of the fog has come a great and terrible light. Really? Why all the drama?

     I seem to harbor both an aversion to and an attraction to drama. I have learned to let go of adversity and I'm a forgiving and compassionate soul and so good at healing that I've left it behind. I forget about my horror movie past. Why keep my hand in the fire?

     An individual looks into my Design Chart/ Bodygraph and finds that I've lived a life of survival and that it's segmented into three; now it's my time to lead. Another interrupts my speech to finish my sentences yet is incorrect about what I was going to say, tells me what I said and why I said it, describing what I feel. I dislike distrust of my own speech, that what I say I've said is opposite of what I have said. I feel crushed and my feelings suddenly are tossed in the air and there's that darned light again, flashing on those feelings like a new emotion.

     What is that fog? I am not a fearful person. I'm certainly experiencing that fog though. I choose the side of love and look at the cloud with curiosity and a wonderful opportunity to grow. I don't let the light hurt my eyes.

Cheers!