A weird day.
Tired. Oddly listless. I let myself be, after a morning of Wim Hof live-streaming on YouTube and just short of an hour with the ladies attending the Saturday-session of Writers Club. Go for a slow walk in the semi-drizzling grey of the day. Lie down on my bed, snuggling under the covers reading Sabbath, the book for the upcoming Bookclub-gathering of my Creative Community, putting it down after a few minutes, closing my eyes while warming my cold hands under my shirt, falling asleep. In the middle of the afternoon. My youngest (not-so-young-anymore) moves about in the hallway an hour or so later, entering my room to tell me he’ll go for a walk. As he leaves, I let my sleepy eyelids close again, and I fall asleep for another hour.
As I wake I get up and warm some leftovers from yesterday for dinner, listening to a pod about Teresa of Ávila, before moving my attention to the first episode of Black Mirror, a show I’ve yet to watch. Odd. Watch the second episode too, and then… cannot take more odd today, so I turn to Regeneration 2021, the first online gallery of said Creative Community. Reading, remembering (as many of these posts have first been shared in the community, and I read most all posts. And putting most there is actually a word to display some sense of false modesty, because honestly, and truly, I read each and every post. Each and every comment. Perhaps not right away, but I do read it all.), reminiscing.
I come across Jennifer Hole’s most magic Dear God, pressing play, and let her soothing voice reassure me. After 4:18 minutes, I refresh the page, pressing play once more. Again. And again. After four rounds of Jennifer I feel better. After four rounds of Jennifer I want to share her with you. After four rounds of Jennifer I realize I’ve yet to tell you about Regeneration 2021 and the first show of three, Gather, to be followed in a few months by Brew and then finally, by Feast.
So I open Facebook, starting to type… but after but a few sentences realizing that I don’t just want to put this on Facebook. If I am gonna tell you about Regeneration 2021 I wanna do it properly. So I copy paste what I’ve written so far into my Morning Pages-document that I just now realized I’ve not made a copy of, renaming it Morning Pages_2021. And if you’ve paid attention to the story you know I am far from orthodox, taking grand liberties with the concept of morning pages, I admit. (It’s not morning, I am not writing by hand, and I am not writing three pages of what-ever’s that are not to be shared. That’s never been how I do my version.) Julia Cameron ever writes There is no wrong way to do Morning Pages, even though I am not sure she fathomed anyone would stray so far off the beaten path as I have…
I read on, going through the entries of the gallery room named Beginnings, smiling at Marijke’s Dirty Dancing, at Sana’s insights into the lesson of distrusting simple, and come to Inma and the community of salt. As I read, I remember each and every step that Inma is referring to, and yet another burst of energy surges through my body.
No longer tired, definitely not listless, I count myself extremely lucky for being a co-creator of this!
It almost takes my breath away. Struggling to grasp with it.
Am. A. Part.
This web of creativity, caring and concern, of wit, wonder and wild ideas.
And that. That has shivers coursing up and down my body, god bumps appearing on my arms, and my heart swelling with the most glorious feeling of pride, awe and gratitude.