Thoughts with feathers

Photo from the Tumblr Account alittlebitofsillinessreally

For a long, long while now I've had no inclination to write. I love writing, but for a couple of years now, there’s been a void in me as to subjects or reasons to put my thoughts on paper. Typing the words “a void” my head sounded it as one word, “avoid”, and I’m wondering whether or why I would have avoided writing.

Since I believe in being simply a channel, albeit a unique one, through which creativity can flow, why wasn’t I open to this flowing?

It wasn’t a complete creative block. I was creating on other levels; busy building out ranges of functional ceramic art, sculpting, facilitating workshops and retreats. I often felt that I didn’t have enough creative energy to go around. That doing pottery and sculpting are “using it all up” in a sense.

Lately, thoughts are starting to gather like sparrows in a rain puddle. I delight in how they splash around, but I’m aware of their wariness, their mistrust of even a single sound or a breath of danger, that makes them take flight in a flurry.

So this here is just such a scene: a puddle and some plain looking birds. I’m standing by the window very quietly watching them. I’m not reaching for my phone to capture the moment. I’m willing them to stay. To keep playing and chirping and being exactly what they are.

Matilda

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The Restory Retreat Centre

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