Yesterday, I awoke with the desire to create. What a magical moment it was when the muse returned.
You see, lately I’ve struggled with finding a place for my personality. I’m certain a contributing factor was the abrupt ending of my career as a classroom teacher. In June, I applied for and was hired as a Middle School Support Specialist. The whirlwind of getting rid of and packing up twelve years of teaching jolted my sense of self. I knew that I needed to surrender to these changes but found it difficult to do so.
Then the summer swept me into the frenzy of my stepson’s wedding and a mini book tour. During those in-between days, I found myself befuddled over my lack of artistic desire. I struggled to find my muse and fight off the sense of impending doom (as my friend Mona puts it).
Then yesterday I decided to finish some mixed media pieces. During the process of working with a piece I’d titled “Bird of Paradise,” I surrendered.
As I re-read the poem, a sense of comfort washed over me. Sure, I’d wanted to soar in the winds of change, even fantasized about becoming a sought after writer, yet my poem reminded me that surrender’s beauty isn’t in my lofty dreams. Surrender grows along the path where I walk, every day, one step at a time.
For I strongly suspect that my muse inhabits this magnificent bird of paradise I call surrender. When I stop trying to flee my uncomfortable feelings, surrender is there, in front of me, re-awakening my artistic identity.
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