So…how many times have I heard that life is a journey, not a destination? I have believed it (at least in my head), said it to others, written it here. There is knowing this, and there is knowing this on a deep heart level.
For the last year, I now realize, I have been looking for answers, for purpose, for destination. When I retired from my full-time job, I suddenly had an abundance of options. And because nothing jumped up and commanded my attention, I have felt adrift. We are so conditioned in our culture to having a routine, a to-do list, a feeling of accomplishment at the end of every day. To doing what shouts at us, rather than listening to the small voice within.
Now, I am claiming my journey: to un-still that voice, to explore, to (re)learn to play, to develop my imagination, to notice what feeds (and depletes) me, to open myself to the questions rather than longing for answers.
I have been doing some waters-testing, too. Among other things, I am consulting and teaching (old life, extended), seeing friends, practicing yoga, volunteering for a local nonprofit, meeting with other writers. And I am exploring the idea of renting a creative space downtown. When I was a child, I always wanted a playhouse. Now I want a playspace/studio.
What feeds you? What depletes you? How can you move on your journey toward what makes you sing?