It’s a new blog! A new experiment! And of course, a new year, with so many new seedlings very well on their way to sprouts.
2016 has been the best new year I’ve had in memory. So, it feels like time to take a page out of a good friend’s book and get on expanding while the expanding’s good.
Thus, I say to you: lo! Meet my new personal blogging project, A Lovely Ponder. It’s a new place for practicing writing at least weekly; posting things that I’m creating; documenting and diging into insights (i.e. new findings) of interest; and exploring aloud the intersection of bringing good into the world, honing true authenticity, thinking (and feeling) bigger than before, and reaching deep. My jam these past couple of years has been more about practice than knowledge, so pretty sure that’ll be a theme. And, of course, jokes! Abhorrently terrible jokes.
I’m pretty sure it’s gonna be a good thing. 🙂
One specific intention I have in writing more often is to get over this weird, cloying, icy, sometimes sharp and rigid fear of writing words out in the world. It sounds so sweet and protective, this fear, on its surface! ‘Don’t get hurt’, ‘don’t disturb’, ‘don’t worry about it’, ‘don’t need it’, ‘don’t despair’, ‘don’t hurt anyone’, ‘you’re safe right now’, ‘don’t cause a fuss’. But a ‘must’ or ‘might’ or ‘whither’ whisper is starting to grow just a little bit, just barely intelligible enough to be heard alongside the clang of ‘can’t’s and ‘won’t’s and ‘don’t wonder’s. Who would I be if I set a course through this fear, instead of around it? Perhaps it’s time to reassign roles for this smarmy old don’t-sayer. I’m feeling more administrative apprentice than gate-guardian shielding against action.
Just imagine if this year, for any of us, became an offering of practice to the brave little tea candle flicker of ‘but I might…’ deep inside us. What if we found and moved from inspiration and homage to the weird, (sacred?), (deep intuitive?), (ancient?) voice within us, that ground vibration deep within?
(This is kind that’s also said to me this January, ‘take those dance classes!’ and ‘get on a skateboard!’ — both really really good ideas, tried on.)
I’m talking about the voice that’s the one to call us to do things we really have no rational hope for others to understand. It’s the one that smiles and grabs our hand when we start to fear we might not have the courage. ‘Because instead, let’s go!’ And off we romp.
A quote I love for these new undertakings is actually attributed most frequently to Steve Jobs. The way I think of it is, just imagine if the lines weren’t our business — and instead, all we get to choose is where and how to lay the dots. What if we just laid them dots, and laid ’em brave from someplace deep (as deep as we can)? In future retrospect, the true lines of your life can then lay themselves.
It’s so much better than trying to find a line lain that just happens to be perfect for you, among the stories and discoveries of other people. It’s like, you know what fits better than new clothes? Bones and skin, the shape of your own feet within your shoes. Because they’re already yours. Walk with those.
“You can’t connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future. You have to trust in something — your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever. This approach has never let me down, and it has made all the difference in my life.” – Steve Jobs, Stanford Commencement Address, 2005.
And so concludes this first lovely ponder: meandering monologue, existential musings, mixed metaphors, and commencement speech quotes, a fine harbinger indeed for the dots I hope soon to welcome forth.