… A moment of weakness (we all have them)..yes? There is a self-deprecating thought that rolls through and is sticky like molasses on a hot and humid day. “So I am no Picasso, Matisse or Michaelangelo.”
I muse….unsatisfyingly and prepare to paint.
There is no measuring up or comparison to these great Masters and yet the doubt in my self makes its timely arrival once again.
I pick up my brush and offer to be an open vessel for Spirit. The painting begins to flow….the valley, the hills, feeling the freedom of just painting for the joy in it. Music is playing as my brush moves across the paper and suddenly a hand is revealed…that great aha…… then a line becomes the brush and the landscape becomes the palette. All of this under my watchful gaze has taken form quite to my surprise.
As the hand appears, I am reminded, once again, that there is a mysterious, incredibly beautiful guiding force. Something that breathes life into everything and gives each of us a “hand up” in life. This guidance helps us to re-member that it is our soul’s purpose and greatest delight to find our authentic voice and there is mystery in that so deep and so profound that our consciousness has a hard time excepting this formidable truth.
and so……I shall create for the joy, the love, the freedom in each moment and know that by living my joy and my passion, my path will be made clear and I will be guided by that loving mysterious hand.
