Skate Away

I watched a Joni Mitchell documentary on Netflix the other day.  She moves me in ways that are indescribable.  I guess millions of people say that.  I’ve been lying here wondering how there are people who seem to be able to grab onto the creativity that is in all of us, and move mountains whether it’s through music, poetry, technology, medicine….whatever the art form.  Finding your muse and following it isn’t any easier than my particular challenge.  I am sure of that.  What is my muse, then? 

My muse is my helpers on another side.  Not THE other side, because I don’t know if there actually is one.  I think we are all part of the same thing; we just can’t always tune in to the side we can’t see, touch or feel.  Except, if we allow ourselves the opportunity, I think it is possible to see it, touch it, feel it, even be it.  The “how to” part is a challenge.  Going deep into myself and allowing myself to have a bit of a “breakdown” (the breaking down of the barrier?) as western medicine calls it, is an okay thing, I think.  It’s that allowing that helps us see the truth, or at least, a possible truth.  The shamanic conversion I mentioned above.

We make everything so negative here in the west.  A breakdown is a bad thing, for which we need medicine to quiet the voices.  In some cases, yes.  But far too many of us are medicated too much.  We medicate ourselves out of possibility.  The possibility going to the void, touching it and returning, better for having done it.  To be, just to be.  It’s a powerful and true thing.  But I wonder. 

I don’t hear voices, but sometimes, the thoughts that I have are not my own.  They are vague whispers in my left ear, always calming, always quiet, always right.  If I would just trust them.  It’s not like voices telling me to do things that would hurt myself or others.  It’s the wise women in my life,  me that right now, right this minute, I am all right.  Stay in the moment, they tell me.