The thing about not traveling all the time is that the movement becomes internal. An undulating river of emotions, ideas, fleeting thoughts, flashes of possibilities. Sometimes its hard to know what’s real, what course to follow, where to go and even how. Its easier, I think, to have a deadline, take the necessary steps, and arrive at the destination to encounter mostly what you expected.
I have a friend who has spent most of her life internally. An artist, a writer, a beautiful soul who beats herself up incessantly because somehow she has not “arrived” in the world, or achieved the external accolade she expected she would. She called me this afternoon, from our local art supply store, asking me to validate her decision to spend a ton of money she doesn’t have to buy art supplies and an easel so she can make the work that will get her into a gallery.
We talked then, about making a commitment to the work, the lifestyle, the promise of manifesting a particular future. Somehow, you do have to make the commitment, put yourself at risk, be willing to fail, to lose it all, in order to get whatever it is you desire.
My friend is making the commitment to sell her art and make a living doing it. I’m committing to myself — to the mystery, the unknown, the life without a specific focus or goal, to exploration and the ability to leave my studio at two in the afternoon so I can come home and write a blog post about drifting.
Instead, I’m writing a post about action, goals, commitment and the fear associated with them.
I am guessing my friend is loading her car right now, berating herself for being less than frugal, and smiling a little at being daring enough to act on a desire instead of merely wishing for it. I am guessing that as she contemplates this first step, the blank canvases and the sacrifices that will have to be made to accomodate them, she is feeling a bit small, lost and out of control. I am also guessing that as she puts the car in gear she will crank some of her favorite music, lean back in her seat, and feel a large amount of hope. Because this afternoon, when I left my studio, walked away from deadlines and work ethic, and all the rest, that’s what I did.