Calling Back
Four thoughts, on this Friday evening :
1)
A few years ago, I came across a mediation idea that was all about calling your focus and power back into your body.
For me, this means that I imagine all the little frayed edges of creativity that I’ve left snagged in the bushes and brambles that line the path of my own personal journey. I imagine finding them, gathering them by the fistful, and then weaving them back into myself. This simple ritual never fails to leave me feeling empowered, like I’m back in my body and seeing with clear eyes once more.
Sometimes, this little meditation is a practice that only needs to be practiced once in a blue moon. Then again, sometimes it’s required several times a day. This year, I’ve come back to it countless times, and I do believe it’s one of the things that has kept me moving forwards with a smile on my face.
2)
When I was reading Women Who Run with the Wolves last spring, the old French verb ‘reclamer’ was mentioned. It’s old French, as opposed to modern French, because it’s no longer used. Why is it no longer part of the language, you ask? Well, because reclamer means, “to call a hawk back to the glove.” Perhaps not the most useful verb these days!
Anyhow, the moment my eyes fell to rest on it, tucked into those transformative pages, I was captivated. Was there ever a word that more perfectly described the feeling I get when I call my creativity back into my body? I love to set my imagination loose, free to explore the sky and the clouds and whatever else it might encounter - but I’ve got to have a way to bring it back, too. Otherwise it’s just left wandering (aka, the very painful phenomenon that is artists block).
SO - reclamer, reclamer, reclamer.
3)
I kept seeing the letters as a bird - wings outstretched, in full flight, just the way I feel when I dive so deeply into a project that time all but stops. But how to capture the gesture? The form? The movement?
Messy sketchbook pages, that’s how.
I was on the hunt for something that felt RIGHT…there’s really no other way to describe it. I just knew I’d know when the answer appeared. I fussed and fiddled and then…struck gold.
Now I’ve got a lovely little reminder to prop up at my bench, for those moments when I need to reset and reorganize.
4)
All summer, whenever I found myself in a low spot, I seemed to find a feather.
Magpie, crow, hawk, finch.
Maybe my finds were simply luck - but every time, I’d pick up the fallen treasure, hold it up to the light, and immediately get the sense that the universe was sending me a message.
A message that said, “just keep going. Just keep trying. You’re EXACTLY where you’re meant to be.”
I finished up a few little feathers to share with you this afternoon, cut from the pattern I drew years ago in California after finding an owl feather nestled just-so in the grass. All three will be in the shop sometime next week - email with exact time and date to come!!
