It may not seem that way from the outside, but there is a certain perfection to my journey, a certain perfection to the way things happen. Last time, I commented on how I was beginning to feel less like a cork (or, to use a metaphor I have used in the past, a rickety boat) bobbing on the water, and more like a more powerful, permanent island in the stream or ocean. And what happens within 24 hours of that? I discover the most wonderful book, Elizabeth Gilbert's Big Magic. I have underlined so many passages in this book that I cannot possibly do more here than scratch the surface.
Here, essentially, is her theme: "The universe buries strange jewels deep within us all, and then stands back to see if we can find them. The hunt to uncover those jewels -- that's creative living" (Page 8). I love the fact that by that standard, by fully engaging with the hunt, my life can be seen to have been successful after all.
The most thought-provoking stretch of the book for me was the beginning of the section entitled "Trust," starting on page 201. She tackles, head on, something I have touched on in one or two previous blogs, the issue of whether the thing we are passionate about is passionate about us. Basically, it has to do with how so many of us assume that the thing we want to devote our life to (her examples are nature and writing) are, in fact, indifferent to us, or worse. This is, in part, what leads to the classic artist's persona of suffering, martyrdom for one's art. We are willing to sacrifice everything to something that may well not care for us in return. Bless her, Gilbert's case is that inspiration loves us, and wants us to create and succeed -- not the opposite.
Having through the years devoted so much love to situations that seemed to be so indifferent to me, I've been a prime candidate for this kind of martyrdom in every possible area of my life. After reading this section of the book, I have decided that with the time I have left on this side of the Atlantic, I'm going to focus on discerning: does cathedral music love me in return? Does England? Even if I feel a special calling to be here and create some unique art form or spiritual oeuvre, is this an inspiration that wants to connect with me? Is there a mutuality to this? Or is my "strange jewel" actually something above and beyond place? Would it be possible for me to leave in a few weeks and finally let go?
If the latter questions should turn out to be true (and if in fact I have graduated to a whole new level of my journey), then some of the material late in the book will be as pertinent to me going forward as it is to anyone trying to discern their calling or gifts for the first time. She talks about letting simple curiosity lead you forward, potentially into a "raw new unexplored universe within yourself." At the very least, I am curious as to how to start really feeling the mutual engagement between my passionate life energy and a wonder-filled universe. I am curious about what it will feel like when the breath of inspiration moves back and forth.
