no longer waiting

We must be willing to let go of the life we planned so as to have the life that is waiting for us.
— joseph campbell
candlelight.jpg

I am no longer waiting for perfect. or even close to perfect. 

I am no longer waiting for ready. 

I am no longer waiting to have it all figured out and a plan laid out in front of me. 

 I can get lost in the planning because I enjoy it. I love thinking of new ideas and things I can do. I love fitting pieces of my day into a grid, creating the "perfect schedule" I love creating a reading list as much as, if not more than, the reading itself. But where does all of that get me? Anywhere? or nowhere? Because I mean really ... the best laid plans of mice and men, right? 

Life is happening in the doing not in the planning and it certainly isn't showing up to the waiting. 

In my perfect world, I walk into a studio that is clean and ready to go and my day begins and continues without interruption. In my perfect world, I am grounded in rituals that are connected to the phases of the moon and the earth's rotations and revolutions. In my perfect world, I would be able to communicate the what and how of my life in bullet points, five easy steps, and you-to-can missives. 

Yeah. The world isn't perfect; it is never going to be. And I'm not waiting any longer. 

Here is what I know. 

It is the intention that matters. That is where the power is. Also, beginnings matter because there is energy in taking the first step ... and another and one more. "Just do It" is more than a catchy advertising slogan. It's about moving past all the planning and the waiting for perfect and just do it. 

This morning I woke early, knowing that I wanted to step into a new routine. I am wanting to return to the sitting here in front of my computer, coffee cup full, and writing each day. I am wanting to return to this thing called blogging. This thing that is so 2000-something, that has been declared dead, that has been suffocated by the means of marketing and the rise of social media. and I don't care about any of that. All I care about is showing up to what used to be my devotion. I don't even want to take time to understand what happened to it ... why I turned away from it ... I simply want to return. 

This morning, it was tempting to make it more than it is. What I envision in my mind is romanticized with perfect environments and scenarios. There would be no clutter on the table. My son wouldn't come peeking around the corner just as I begin because he needs to use the computer. I wouldn't be writing sentences and backspace and delete and write the sentence again and again and again, lost in the effort to find my flow.

In my mind, it is so easy except it's not so easy. 

But what if ... 

What if there could be ease?

What if I could light some candles? It's amazing how much softer and warm the clutter looks in the candle light. What if I could just say good morning to the son and let him into my space without judgment? What if I could worry less about finding the perfect sentence and just write raw and unpolished and so so SO imperfectly?

There is a a lot  in life that I cannot control, that is not in my power but I can create ease. It is completely within my power to create the ease. It's a choice. It's a mindset. It's a leaning in to what is. 

And what is this morning is that I've sat and written words. My coffee is cold now. I'll go heat it up for the first of at least three times. I'll blow out the candles and go on with what needs to be done today. It's a good start.