Tuesday, March 26, 2013

a space for commitment

This is the space that the oak created while she stood 375 years in the woods behind our family home and near the cabin where I lived during my return to the sanity of myself. Recently, I have been remembering and appreciating those morning walks to the outhouse. Each morning I would read from Julia Cameron's The Artist's Way Everyday looking out into the morning woods.





Today is March 26, 2013. 
I woke this morning and prayerfully asked for all my loved ones, including myself, to be well, happy and peaceful. May no harm come to them, may no problem come to them, may no difficulty come to them, may they always meet with success. May they also have patience, courage, understanding and determination to meet and overcome inevitable difficulties, problems and failures in life.

This morning I am listening to reconnect with my commitment. Reconnecting may take including a morning walk to my day, because it is in moving that I can listen most clearly and be set to right. In Nature my compass finds its true north.

"Until one is committed, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back, always ineffectiveness. Concerning all acts of initiative (or creation) there is one elementary truth, the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans: that the moment one definitely commits oneself, then Providence moves too. All sorts of things occur to help one that would otherwise never have occurred. A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in one's favor all manner of incidents and meetings and material assistance which no woman would have believed would have come her way."

W.H.Murray the scottish mountaineer
found in Julia Cameron's The Artist Way Everyday
(italics mine)

Many of my sisters and brothers who I admire have found their commitment, deeply.  I also begin to understand that there is a remembering that must take place to keep the path open for the new to move in me and to meet me from the world. 

I am committed to connection, even in my solitude. My remembering today has taken this written form, and will continue in the form of a morning walk into the woods, through the spring snow laden field. 

Thank you for your part in this remembering.