“Daring to dream what is deepest in our collective longings is what makes us most human and fully alive.” Wendy Wright, The Vigil
My Manifesting Mount Dora Project, during its slightly more than one week of existence, has been a challenge, has spawned creativity and fun, and has made me feel more alive than I’ve felt in a long while. And, as is the case with many new passions, I have been left exhausted at times, but the good kind of tired, when you feel spent and rest is a reward for your efforts.
The challenges continue and sometimes seem to be racing toward me like Seabiscuit to the finish line. Again, I feel like I am under attack and sometimes from the very ones that I would expect to shield, comfort and inspire me. Is my new found passion making others uncomfortable? Or, are my actions exposing something uncomfortable within themselves? Am I changing in ways that others don’t appreciate? I don’t know, may never know. I just keep moving forward. I look for anything and everything that shines with positivity. I smile when I feel like shouting or crying or sighing or running far, far away. And, believe me, that has happened more than a few times this week.
I had a conversation with a friend the other day who is facing a great change in his life and, although he is an advocate of change and has recreated himself many times, this change has been forced upon him at a time that feels inconvenient and frightening. He did not initiate the change and is reluctant to face upheaval at this time in his life. Oddly, he admits that the very change that is occurring was something he started to initiate, something he wanted, twice during the last decade, but put off because he was feeling so comfortable where he was and with what he had. The change was, at one time, what he wanted, but he did not follow the calling. A few years ago, the change he faces now was knocking on his door as opportunity, but he turned it away and now the change has knocked down his door and rattled his windows. He started the game and became too comfortable, too complacent and decided to sit out an inning and then another and then another. Now he is being called in to play and he may go out to the field reluctantly or with vigor. He will choose vigor. I know him. For a few days or a couple of weeks he will mourn what he is losing and, in the process, shake off the cobwebs that have gathered. He knows the game well, he knows he must play creatively with confidence and determination. He will play and he will win.
Complacency is merely being comfortable for too long. We all need a rest. Sitting on the front porch admiring the fruits of our labors and watching the world parade by is okay - for awhile. My paternal grandfather, who passed before I was born, worked six days a week, ten or more hours a day from the age of 14 until his retirement at 68 years of age. He deserved to rest. He and my grandmother moved to a cabin on a lake and he sat on the porch and did nothing until he died a few years later of what was then called hardening of the arteries. Maybe his arteries hardened due to a high fat diet or maybe because he stopped moving - not just moving forward, but moving at all. Not just physical movement, but mental, spiritual and emotional movement, too. He just stopped.
Life has stages. We rush to the next stage or we enter it unwillingly or even unknowingly. We may try to hold it at bay, but it will come. We can welcome it, dread it or even deny it, but it will come. When you enter the next phase of your life, you are swept up in changes - a new school, a new love, a new job, a new home, the birth of a child, the end of a relationship, the loss of financial security, the death of a loved one - they all require attention, energy and focus. There may be turmoil or excitement or grieving or joy. Life is electric. Time passes with unforgiving swiftness. And then the climate calms. A pattern develops and we slow dance through our days. Life is like the soft underbelly of a kitten. Even the annoyances and aggravations are easily swept away and forgotten. We get comfortable. Then, it starts. The little waves of electricity return, perhaps as problems or maybe as desires. We feel unsettled, sleep does not come easily. The kitten awakes and scratches the hand on his soft fur. We cry, we bleed, we long, we fight, we dream. But, we want to be comfortable. We miss the routine, the knowing of life. So, we look for switches to shut off the electricity. We’d rather be in the dark like in a mother’s womb. We push away the dreams and sleep heavily and deeply. We hold tight and develop a fear of the unknown. But, the unknown knows us and its coming again. And again, and again. Until one day, it does not just knock on the door, it blows the door in.
For many years I was in the dark, holding tight with fear, when it was the dark that I should have feared. I made changes that finally turned on the light and moved me in to a new phase of life. For almost eight years I have been in a new chapter of my life. For awhile now, I have felt the knocking on the door. I can open it or I can nail it shut, but the nails will rust and come loose and sooner or later the door will give way. I have chosen to open the door. Manifesting Mount Dora is the opening of the door.
“Be not afraid of growing slowly, be afraid of standing still.” Chinese Proverb
My Manifesting Mount Dora Project, during its slightly more than one week of existence, has been a challenge, has spawned creativity and fun, and has made me feel more alive than I’ve felt in a long while. And, as is the case with many new passions, I have been left exhausted at times, but the good kind of tired, when you feel spent and rest is a reward for your efforts.
The challenges continue and sometimes seem to be racing toward me like Seabiscuit to the finish line. Again, I feel like I am under attack and sometimes from the very ones that I would expect to shield, comfort and inspire me. Is my new found passion making others uncomfortable? Or, are my actions exposing something uncomfortable within themselves? Am I changing in ways that others don’t appreciate? I don’t know, may never know. I just keep moving forward. I look for anything and everything that shines with positivity. I smile when I feel like shouting or crying or sighing or running far, far away. And, believe me, that has happened more than a few times this week.
I had a conversation with a friend the other day who is facing a great change in his life and, although he is an advocate of change and has recreated himself many times, this change has been forced upon him at a time that feels inconvenient and frightening. He did not initiate the change and is reluctant to face upheaval at this time in his life. Oddly, he admits that the very change that is occurring was something he started to initiate, something he wanted, twice during the last decade, but put off because he was feeling so comfortable where he was and with what he had. The change was, at one time, what he wanted, but he did not follow the calling. A few years ago, the change he faces now was knocking on his door as opportunity, but he turned it away and now the change has knocked down his door and rattled his windows. He started the game and became too comfortable, too complacent and decided to sit out an inning and then another and then another. Now he is being called in to play and he may go out to the field reluctantly or with vigor. He will choose vigor. I know him. For a few days or a couple of weeks he will mourn what he is losing and, in the process, shake off the cobwebs that have gathered. He knows the game well, he knows he must play creatively with confidence and determination. He will play and he will win.
Complacency is merely being comfortable for too long. We all need a rest. Sitting on the front porch admiring the fruits of our labors and watching the world parade by is okay - for awhile. My paternal grandfather, who passed before I was born, worked six days a week, ten or more hours a day from the age of 14 until his retirement at 68 years of age. He deserved to rest. He and my grandmother moved to a cabin on a lake and he sat on the porch and did nothing until he died a few years later of what was then called hardening of the arteries. Maybe his arteries hardened due to a high fat diet or maybe because he stopped moving - not just moving forward, but moving at all. Not just physical movement, but mental, spiritual and emotional movement, too. He just stopped.
Life has stages. We rush to the next stage or we enter it unwillingly or even unknowingly. We may try to hold it at bay, but it will come. We can welcome it, dread it or even deny it, but it will come. When you enter the next phase of your life, you are swept up in changes - a new school, a new love, a new job, a new home, the birth of a child, the end of a relationship, the loss of financial security, the death of a loved one - they all require attention, energy and focus. There may be turmoil or excitement or grieving or joy. Life is electric. Time passes with unforgiving swiftness. And then the climate calms. A pattern develops and we slow dance through our days. Life is like the soft underbelly of a kitten. Even the annoyances and aggravations are easily swept away and forgotten. We get comfortable. Then, it starts. The little waves of electricity return, perhaps as problems or maybe as desires. We feel unsettled, sleep does not come easily. The kitten awakes and scratches the hand on his soft fur. We cry, we bleed, we long, we fight, we dream. But, we want to be comfortable. We miss the routine, the knowing of life. So, we look for switches to shut off the electricity. We’d rather be in the dark like in a mother’s womb. We push away the dreams and sleep heavily and deeply. We hold tight and develop a fear of the unknown. But, the unknown knows us and its coming again. And again, and again. Until one day, it does not just knock on the door, it blows the door in.
For many years I was in the dark, holding tight with fear, when it was the dark that I should have feared. I made changes that finally turned on the light and moved me in to a new phase of life. For almost eight years I have been in a new chapter of my life. For awhile now, I have felt the knocking on the door. I can open it or I can nail it shut, but the nails will rust and come loose and sooner or later the door will give way. I have chosen to open the door. Manifesting Mount Dora is the opening of the door.
“Be not afraid of growing slowly, be afraid of standing still.” Chinese Proverb
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