My sewing table is in a corner of my bedroom,
flanked by a big sliding glass door and a large window that faces
southeast over the back yard. It is a beautiful vantage point from
which to sew, bathed in the natural light from the windows. However,
since it's in the bedroom, we draw the shades for privacy most of the
time. Most days I pass the windows without even noticing that they're
there, rarely thinking to open the blinds. Thinking about this space
this morning and how it is evolving as the creative center of my at
home endeavors, I realized that a conscious effort on my part is
required to let the light in. That simple act makes that an inviting
space in which to work and helps me to see the possibility that exists
in those projects that are waiting for me there.
It is the same with my Daily Practice. Stopping to listen to my breath, sitting in stillness, being present to my experience as it unfolds requires a conscious effort. It can be tempting to skip it "just this once" or "come back to it later," and before I know it, the day is gone and the Practice has fallen by the wayside. The Practice facilitates my creativity so I can hear the voice of my soul's longing and manifest that in the world. It empowers me to hold the space I need to bring those things into being. Some days I walk right past that opportunity, as surely as I forget to open the blinds.
It is the same with my Daily Practice. Stopping to listen to my breath, sitting in stillness, being present to my experience as it unfolds requires a conscious effort. It can be tempting to skip it "just this once" or "come back to it later," and before I know it, the day is gone and the Practice has fallen by the wayside. The Practice facilitates my creativity so I can hear the voice of my soul's longing and manifest that in the world. It empowers me to hold the space I need to bring those things into being. Some days I walk right past that opportunity, as surely as I forget to open the blinds.