what's to come? Any word may now follow, spontaneous from thought to eventual place on page. My role is to receive, arrange, and even this is given as inspiration and not an act of volition. What comes, at least for me, here, is not brought through demand, or willed for its appearance. These things are gifted. I find my true place by letting go of suspicions of where I should be, allowing myself to be arranged just as much as these words now. I am brought to each place in the same spontaneous fashion even as it feels a choice is made. Yet in review, I never find an origin of how a thought appears, each one is just as sudden as any inspiration, some eventually lead to greater impact, while others simply pass without a lasting trace behind. I have no idea why. It's like cloud watching, how the sky is full of just allowing, open to the possibilities of every arrangements clouds can offer - there is no wish from my observation, designs appear without my interference or design. Yet I find myself engaged in this same inspiration, identifying shapes to give meaning, clouds drifting to new forms right before my eyes. It's all the same, words and clouds appearing on their own, my interpretation of what's given equally unprepared before the moment it arrives. I have no idea what's to come - I only know it's an inspired, spontaneous life worth living.
~
Peace,
Eric
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