To write, to compose, to draw, to paint, to crochet, to knit, to build rockets, that plugs us in, at least for a short time, to the garden we were expelled from.
You know what I mean—the garden represents our connection with our divine nature. When we follow our divine nature, our calling, we are ego less and defenseless for a little while—what a reprieve. The air in that space is so pure it makes us heady with the belief that we can live forever.
And you know what?
We can point others to their calling as well.
Steven Pressfield called me. I’m calling you. Pass it on.
I know many of you want to write, and I’ve gotten comments from people wanting to start a blog, so I wrote a little book called, Grab a Pen and Kick-Ass. Not that I can tell you writers how to write, but I list ten books that can. My intent was to motivate you to do it. Maybe I was writing it for myself.
We have a job to perform, and that is to do the thing that means the most to us. Some call it their calling. Singers sing, and painters paint, writers write, babies giggle, children play and kitty cats lay on our desks and look lovingly into our eyes, or sleep contentedly knowing they are with us.
Remember the movie You Can’t Take it with You? The grandfather swooped people into his house and let them work on whatever they chose. The old men were making firecrackers in the basement. The mother was writing a novel and had written herself into a monastery and couldn’t get out. The little man that grandfather rescued from being an accountant was making toys. All didn’t go perfectly—otherwise, it would have been a utopia and not a story, but the idea is there. Do your thing.
I talk about this subject of doing your thing a lot because if everyone had a dream and followed it, whether they were successful at it or not in terms of aclaim or finances, they would still be doing what they came here to do.
They might get frustrated for to grow requires patience–who wants that? It requires hard work, too, and perseverance, and dedication. Darn, and I wanted it to be easy.
Still it is worth the doing.
And there would be those moments of transcendence where we touch the garden.