This morning, finally, after a month of what I can only call convalescence after the books went out, I felt a sea change.
I’ve no idea why I have asked so much of myself over the decades, but ask (and deliver) I have done. And I’m proud of what I’ve built in the time I’ve had, and sorry about what I could have done better, or more carefully. I realize now, with a wave of kindness toward myself, that one of the reasons that the trajectory of my life has looked so random is that I was building things that were too big to see from any one place, a structure so spready it can only be seen from the air.
I’ve been lucky to have formed strong, deep associations (and plenty of them) with extraordinary people, people who join with me to form a golden net around the Earth. It’s like I have access to their strengths, their vision; they extend and improve me just by being. I hope I do the same for them.
The wave of change passed through me while I was looking at some of Liam’s sketches this morning.
Suddenly, tears began pouring from my soul, giant rivers of them, rivers of clean salt water that came through my eyes and dampened my shirt. It wasn’t sadness, it was the ocean washing me clean, and it felt like everyone I have ever loved or will ever love and everyone I have ever been or will ever be was looking into my eyes with gentle love, as I held a simple sketch, soaking in the genius of my son.
Dali: “Drawing is the honesty of the art. There is no possibility of cheating: It is either good or bad.”
The well of love and admiration I felt for Liam as a person as I looked at his work blew my cells apart; it was just what I needed to knock me out of myself, to disintegrate the ancient walls, to return that no longer needed mass to pure energy, like Carlito trekked across me, leaving me shining and natural, for the moment free of impurities.
I felt so clean, I could see and almost touch the tenderness that runs like a river of golden light in the air, always there, surrounding every aspect of creation. I understood that Liam was magnificent; that I was magnificent, that I am not responsible for others, but am a tertiary force, a small, vital tendril whose only job is to stay as close to clean as I can, so that I can transmit without garbage in the stream.
I don’t even have to look busy; no one is coming, everything is available.
I’m grateful for the visions, for the salt-washing, for the peace they left in their wake.
By the way, speaking of light, did you see the excellent Hubble image of Comet Sliding Spring going by Mars? It’s a composite, but none the less extraordinary. I love the Hubble so hard.
My favorite quote from the new book is this one, and I am trying to live by it.
Absorb what is useful
Reject what is useless
Add what is essentially your own.
– Bruce Lee
Also: I am excited to see Miss Fish in just two weeks, when I go home for a little visit.
I miss her so much that I’ve been extra happy that we’ve had Bri’s little kitten Sir over for a nice long visit.
The squeezles and kitten-cuddles are supreme. I’m petting him right now as he sleeps in my lap, warm, and as soft as a bunny.