The work of art is a scream of freedom.
Full circle. Loop back. Finish what you started.
Lately, I’ve been getting a whole lot of what I asked for. You know how I’m always running my mouth about change and transformation? Newsflash: it’s a whole lot more comfortable to talk about it than it is to actually walk through it.
The past year has been brought so many incredible new things into my life. I’m not the same person now; that I can assure you. The year has been one of incredible growth and glorious solitude and it’s rapidly drawing to a close. The first week of April marks a year since I moved into this lovely and quirky house. It has been a fine companion and I’m already mourning the loss. I sit this morning surrounded by boxes of books and piles of art. Is it significant that these are the first objects I pack? That when I think of losing all of my possessions in a fire, these are some of the first things I think of? Probably. They are my heart. They have kept me company, pushed me in new directions, and given me solace.
I moved here with goals that sound simple on the surface, but which are in actuality exceedingly difficult:
Find my center. Seek myself. Learn silence. Create beautiful things. Stitch my life back together again. Just be. Let the silt settle around my toes. Hear the quiet voices.
In many ways, I’ve accomplished these things but I understand now that I’ll never be completely finished with this crusade. It turns out that these things are the real work of my life. That the career is just fluff. That every time I think I’ve grown strong enough or open enough, something new will drift into my life and teach me another important lesson.
Right now I’m learning the lesson that sometimes one must go backwards in order to move ahead. That if you just slam the door on certain phases of your life, you may be required to go back, take a seat, and hold some space for that person that you were. Loop back and say goodbye properly. It’s hard because I’m not one to turn back or slow down, but I think this is as it must be. And it is beautiful.
Today, I welcome the new adventures coming my way and I embrace the old Robin as gently as possible so that when it’s time to let go, I’m ready.