Divine Discontent

The storm of my discontent finally broke. It was an unusually warm morning here in Portland last Saturday. I awoke at 630am, immediately showered and waited for my sister to arrive. A highly atypical outing for us, we were driving up to Vancouver to see Johnathan and Andy Hillstrand, co-captains of the F/V Time Bandit, featured on Discovery Channel's "Deadliest Catch." As my earlier post about "Deadliest Catch" details, I love this show to a peculiar degree. I find that I could endlessly write about what draws me towards the show: the Hero's Journey, the authenticity of these men and their intense connection with nature, the sea and how it is the one thing I both fear and revere the most, my immense attraction to various aspects of masculinity, memories of the boyfriend who turned me onto the show, and so much more.

When I stumbled upon news that the Hillstrands would be doing a book signing in Vancouver, I knew I had to go, especially after posting about my love of the show earlier this month. So, I enlisted my sister N to join me, who I turned onto the show a few months ago and who has become an equally avid fan since. We fervently discuss who our favorite captains and deckhands are and why we feel such an intense connection with the show. So, the book signing was a no-brainer for us.

We arrived early and purchased our books and stood in line outside, where the Hillstrands would be signing books under an awning. It was a very casual setting, at the Clark County Skills Center. There was a teenage punk/alternative band playing, a dunk tank, a handful of classic cars being featured, and booths set up with information on the Center and its educational offerings. We stood in the unusually hot 10am sun, looking through the photos in the Hillstrands' book, Time Bandit, and eagerly agreed to indulge in hot dogs afterwards.

There was something instantly magical about this day but I had no clear notion when I awoke that this would be the morning of absolute enlightenment... that all my dreams, my hopes of being alive and realizing myself as a writer... would be illuminated, revealing the most lucid direction I am to take with my life. I had no idea that all the symbols, internal and external struggles, and seemingly unrelated experiences and thoughts, would come to such fruition.

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The discontent had been mounting, to a deafening degree. I've stood at my crossroads and with a disturbing amount of patience, I have waited. There was no wind about me. No stirring. Just the density of my restlessness. Motionless. Soundless. Absolutely still. I strained my soul repeatedly, trying to glean some indication of which direction I should take. Come on soul, you should know. Nothing. The exigency within me did not subside. I knew I had to go. But where? Could I really be satisfied with randomly choosing just one direction? And while each direction looked equally appealing (and vague), my ridiculously indecisive nature would not allow me to step toward any one of them. So, I waited some more.

My mind started turning against me. Why am I discontent? Why can't I be adventurous and inspired where I am now? I'm going to Paris for the month of July, after all. I'll come home and the writing will be here and more will reveal itself. Maybe I'm just so close to realizing that dream that I'm feeling antsy. No. That isn't it and false attempts to convince myself never work. Travel specials on PBS kept taunting me. I was equally fascinated with each and every one of them. The two hour special on the Adirondacks captivated me wholly, as did the Equitrekking episodes in Vermont and then the South and then Wyoming. That damn Rick Steves and his back doors to Europe! My head was spinning.

I felt the same spinning sensation in reading all of your amazing blogs on moving to France. My horse dream haunted me and I was literally feeling twitchy. The wise voice of Joseph Campbell lingered, like a small bird swinging on its perch in a birdcage with no bottom. This bird (Campbell) repeatedly whispering, you can't have the Hero's Journey in your own backyard, you fool. I highly doubt Campbell would call me a fool but I like a bird with a little provocation. I need it.

The cloud cover of discontent started pressing down upon me more rapidly. It became oppressive. My mind tried to present substitute fantasies - I would hear John Mayer on my iPod and fantasize about us falling in puppy dog love, him writing a song about me and serenading me on the porch of our remote countryside home. After seeing "Lars and the Real Girl" and loving it, I watched "The Notebook" five times in one very hormonal weekend and fantasized that Ryan Gosling and I might meet in a little coffee shop down in the South, trading playful glances. I know... you just threw up in your mouth, didn't you? Me too. Yep, I know this pattern all too well... trying to convince myself that falling in love will quench my yearnings. It is a substitute fantasy that my mind always veers to when I'm discontent. But I know better, in my heart at least. Kind of backwards, isn't it? My heart knowing better than my head. Well, it does. It is an escapist fantasy - the idea of a relationship being enough to sustain me. And that substitute fantasy never lasts, nor do the substitute relationships.

This immense discontent has lasted over two months. No doubt it has resided within me for quite some time (a lifetime?) but it has become unbearable in the past two months. Previous bouts of discontent throughout my life have encouraged me to make changes, but the changes were always a band-aid, a temporary "fix" to keep me going a little while longer. These band-aids never required much from me, maybe a slight leap of faith here and there but no ultimate vulnerability. I tell myself that I cannot keep doing this temporary fix bullshit. I know myself better than ever now at age 31. There is a price to that consciousness. And when you heed that consciousness diligently, as I have for many years now, it never lets up on you until you actually live the life you are supposed to.

The past two months in particular have truly been introspective hell, standing in the middle of my crossroads and reaching the exasperated point in which I yearned for, and then tried with great force, to conjure up a massive train (let's call it the Fucking Choo-Choo to Bliss Express) to barrel me down in this damned crossroads. I felt like I was hoarsely screaming to the universe, "here I am! Is all this consciousness for naught?! I don't want to end up spending my life in this bell jar, suffocating myself with thoughts and dreams unrealized!"

Apparently, the universe listens. The train came, the bell jar lifted. But the train was no train. It was a butterfly, a blackbird, vertical shadows dancing upon me on a bridge. Yes, it was on the Columbia River Interstate Bridge that it all lifted, the divine discontent finally gave way completely, and my soul expanded over the river... it expanded over the largest river flowing into the Pacific from North America. The symbolism only presented itself later. I was in the moment and I've never felt more alive.

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Last night I sat at the kitchen table in my apartment and looked at the bottle of Jack Daniels before me. Just enough left in there for one decent drink. As I poured the remainder of the Jack into my glass, a smile broke across my face. I realized that when I bought this fifth of Jack, I was really at the edge of falling into that deep discontent. This drink would undoubtedly taste different than the first drink off the bottle.

I looked out the window and a light rain was starting to fall. The weather changed drastically since last weekend, when we had temperatures well exceeding 90 degrees Fahrenheit. It was in the 50s now. The contrast mirrors my own weather change. I opened the window a crack to soak in the comforting sound of rain and a train sounded in the distance. My smile deepened.

The enlightenment of Saturday was put into solid motion yesterday. I've secured approval from my amazing boss and I submitted my 30 day notice on my apartment. There is no false ambiguity, no forced motion, no restlessness. Not anymore.

I dream of the sea constantly these days.

I know where I'm headed.

I know I'm a writer.

This is my Hero's Journey.


...to be continued.....

Towards Paris

Paris is really only 47 days away. I know it has been creeping up on me and I know I'm going. Yet, I've been feeling incredibly oblivious about it. So much so that once the basic elements were secured - approval from boss, apartment, and ticket - I feel like it just became this suspended thing. Spending a month in Paris was such a fixation for many months (and really, a lifetime!) and my mind was buzzing with how to make it work. The ambition behind that fixation brought about a great investment of energy - planning, buying books and Paris related items, working on my French language lessons, etc.

I was buying up little tokens of Paris, like my beautiful Paris charm necklaces, Paris magnets, the very hip Moleskin City Notebook Paris, the neat little package of Paris City Walks, and so much more. I was eagerly engaged in my Rosetta Stone lessons, watching French in Action episodes and actually using French phrases and words in emails and conversations with friends. I was voraciously stuffing my Netflix queue with French films, reading Balzac, Voltaire and Flaubert as though French literature was the only thing to ever exist.

Yet, somehow, once those fundamental commitments were made with work, apartment, and airfare, that energy subsided substantially. My French Phrase-A-Day calendar is sitting over there on the shelf, still on some date in March. That great Moleskin planner has just a few places of interest written in it (Ladurée, Vaux le Vicomte, Museé Carnavalet, Museé Rodin, and Belle Hortense bookshop), and I even started a Towards Paris blog but the inspiration for such has waned considerably. Although I feel that there is much to write about where this upcoming trip is concerned, I sit down to blog about it and the words just aren't there.

Earlier this week I had an awful feeling that my seeming lack of interest in Paris meant that I wasn't truly thrilled about this upcoming trip. I feared that maybe my previously held conviction about Paris being a gateway to a fuller life was somehow false. And then, just as instantly as this last and painful thought emerged, I became acutely aware of a recurring theme in my dreams... baggage. I've had countless dreams about baggage. In many of the dreams, I suddenly realize that I am responsible for all of this luggage around me, that I somehow have to lug all of these bags around and realistically, not one person could carry so much on their own. Or dreams of packing and repacking to an unnecessary degree for a trip I never actually embark on within the dream because I'm spending an insane amount of time packing.

In thinking about this symbol within my dreams, the "aha" moment came. I realize that once I made the commitment to myself to spend a month in Paris and actually spoke with my boss, booked the apartment, and received the airline miles from my sister, I was off the hook with myself, so to speak. I didn't feel some ridiculous urgency to spend all my free time learning the French language and consuming all things French because I know I'm going to be living it. And that's not to say that learning French or reading about France has ever been a chore, but I think that much of my energy spent steeped in such was a substitute effort to quench my desire.

So often in life, I've over-prepared for things that I've never carried out. And in investing so much energy in the planning and preparing, I feel that I (we?) sub-consciously attempt to substitute for the actual experience. Maybe it is a kind of fear that prevents us from really living out the experience, embarking on the actual journey. Whatever it is, somehow we manage to keep our dream barely alive by surrounding ourselves with knowledge and "souvenirs" of a journey we may never actually take. Really, trying to keep that dream barely alive is far more exhausting than carrying out the dream.

Once I committed to this month in Paris, I felt a tremendous easiness about my dreams of Paris. I know that I'm absolutely open to the experience and I don't feel some enormous pressure to be "prepared." I'm not trying to control the experience and I've not set any expectations on the trip, which is wonderful. Just committing to this trip has already put me closer to that symbolic gateway. And yes, with it (as demonstrated in my previous post) a divine discontent. That sensation of being alive started invading every aspect of my psyche. If I can commit to this month in Paris, what else am I willing to do with my life?

It seems ridiculous at times, thinking that we might be afraid to pursue what seems like a simple and relatively easy dream such as spending a month in Paris. Yet, we deny ourselves our dreams so often and so aggressively. Why is that? Possibly because that consciousness makes us feel so much and urges us to action?

In thinking about posting this last night, I felt a resurgence of interest in my French language lessons and much delight in glimpses of the upcoming month in Paris. But this feeling was a new one, an easy one. I'm really going. And now, after allowing myself these past couple months of suspending that energy, I feel revitalized. My French books and trinkets look different. They feel real. And suddenly, so do I.

My Personal Legend

A few days ago at work I was starting a new project, mostly travel and scenic images, and I came across an image of five horses moving across a field together. They were moving at a pace between a trot and a canter. The horse in the foreground was chestnut with white socks and the camera captured her motion in such an extraordinary way. She was so beautiful and strong, graceful and purpose driven. As I looked at her, I felt this strange sensation. I wanted to be her. And then I wondered if I was her. 

That very night I had a dream that I was in this gloomy, overcast town and an ominous feeling overcame me. I felt trapped and wondered if I could fly away. So I concentrated for a few minutes and found myself hovering just above the ground. I slowly moved down this eerie street until I reached a small building that people were entering. I followed them in. I knew my horse was in there. We were one. I felt her anxiety, her captivity. I did not see her but I knew she was there with every inch of my being. I could feel her. Very abruptly, I could perceive that they were going to kill her...that this was some sick act for entertainment. I was horrified and knew the only way to get away from that horrific scene was to fly away. 

So, once again, I concentrated and was slowly hovering away from that place. I was still just barely off the ground and had to cross a fast moving river ahead. I was shaky and convinced myself that I was going to fail flying over the river and drown. So I hesitated before crossing. And then I thought about my horse...what she must be going through back there and how could I have left her. And just as immediately as these two fears paralyzed me, I had a profound awakening. I didn't leave her. She was me. She was with me, every part of me. I rescued her. I rescued myself. As soon as I started to realize this, I was over the river and flying so fast and so high up in the sky. It was exhilarating. I was free. 

And then suddenly, I dropped down from the clouds and was flying through the high desert and into this beautiful place with the most majestic snow covered mountain range I've ever seen. The air was so clear and the people below me were living their daily lives. I passed a resort with rich travelers. I passed over a barn with simple, humble farm workers tending a stable of horses. I passed over young adults snowboarding. I felt as though in that brief glimpse of those lives, I was so alive and so free. 

Yet, despite my independence, I was truly one with it all. And then I ascended back into the clouds and was flying fast again. And I wondered, with a bursting soul, where I would end up next. I knew that it would be another beautiful place but thoroughly enjoyed that it would be a surprise. I also knew that the place I started in no longer existed for me. I had overcome that obstacle and my confidence and courage made me fly so high and so fast. And the horse...she was me. I was her. And that oneness gave me the confidence and courage to fly. 

So, what does this tell me (you) about my Personal Legend? A lot. But first things first. For most of you, it will come as no shock when I tell you that a significant part of my Personal Legend (I don't believe our PL is ONE and ONLY ONE "thing." Rather, I think that there are components) is that I am a writer. I've talked with several of you about this (most recently, La Belette Rouge) before. Although I have abandoned my editorial career and my freelance writing, I still consider myself a writer. I don't have to be currently engaged in writing something to claim this, either. It is who I am to the core. I have known this almost all of my life. It is who I am. Sure, my job is working with stock photography, but that's not my PL. It's funny because I think that we should almost have business cards with our PL on them when we are very young. When we meet people, we should give them our card identifying our PL. No phone number or email for networking... just that statement. And that is how we should represent ourselves. Not by what we do to sustain a living but by who we truly are. 

At an early age, I was devouring books. I would write my own stories (even if just in my head) or just think of things in abstract ways and write them down. I never stood on the kitchen table during dinner and declared, "I am a writer!!" My parents were great about letting me get books and encouraging my interests to an extent, but realizing my PL was never a bold and focused realization. It was just there, most often on a subconscious level, perhaps. So, when people tell me that they don't have a PL and have never known their PL, I feel that is completely false. We all have one. Some have just been buried deeper over time. My PL was there and I never lost sight of it for long. However, like so many, I denied it and convinced myself that I needed to be practical and establish a "real" career, blah, blah, blah. So, my 20s were spent denying a lot of who I was. But even when I abandoned business and pursued publishing and freelance writing, I felt disappointed. I realized that as much as I am a writer, I don't want it to become a job for me. As soon as something becomes a job and I am dependent upon it to survive, the inspiration just vanishes. I also know for certain that being published is not necessary for me to feel I am really living out my PL. I just want to be truly proud of what I write, even if only a few close friends/family ever see it. 

So, that seems easy, right? I mean, in a lot of ways, I am living out my PL already. I may have to work full time and deal with all the other responsibilities of life, but I can write and I am continually inspired. That is not a wasted life by any means in my estimation. But there is another huge component of my PL that I feel is mounting in significance. I have this overwhelming feeling that my being a writer and living my life to the fullest is very dependent upon my going to France. I was there last year for one week and it was incredible. But I know that I need to go back. And I don't know much more than that. I don't know that I have to move there permanently but I know I have to go for at least a month for now. 

Something tells me that Paris is significant but I also have this sneaking suspicion that Paris is a gateway to something more... something I cannot yet envision. But it is crucial. My going to Europe in the very near future is absolutely necessary to my PL. And this component seems so intriguing to me. I mean, I have known for most of my life that I am a writer and again, not being worried about being a prolific writer, a published writer, etc. really relieves pressure that other writers likely feel. But the pressing urgency to go to Europe (namely Paris and other parts of France) is undeniable. I cannot explain where this feeling came from or what it means. It is more than just wanting to go away on vacation and see the world. It is so much more than that. And the more I think about it, I realize it has been floating around in my subconscious for most of my life. My fascination with French, my taking French language lessons over other choices, my French heritage on my father's side. It has all been there and maybe I did just assume for so long that my attraction to Paris/France was superficial... just to travel for vacation or because it was a chic place to long for. But no... it is so much more than that and I must do something now. 

So, this is where I'm at. I'm a writer... who must go travel to free my soul further... to live my life fully ... to get closer to my Personal Legend. And I am going to make it happen. I will be in Paris/France/Europe for at least one month in the summer of 2008. I refuse to exist in this world... to deny what will likely be the breakthrough of my life when it is within arm's reach. I am not going for answers or in expectation that a month in Paris/France/Europe will resolve everything I desire. I am going because I choose to live my PL and no longer simply dream about it while resigning myself to a "half-life." 

And this brings me back to my dream of the horse. When I thought about it the few days that followed, I realized that the horse and I are one but initially, I was treating the two as separate. And she/I was in danger...those people would surely have ruined her if she/I let them. And maybe those people in that initial scene are critics in my own life... people who think chasing my PL is silly. Over time, criticism from others and denial by oneself an surely kill a person's dreams/PL, just as I could potentially allow such to kill mine (the horse).

I was able to fly in this dream purely because I wanted to... I willed it to happen. When I believed in myself, I could fly but was only hovering at first. The river represents one of my greatest fears... water. In order to cross that and fly high and fast to beautiful places, I had to realize my oneness with the horse (me living out my PL). As instantly as I acknowledged our oneness, I could fly and found only beautiful places. I don't know... my dream analysis surely needs work. But that dream is so symbolic and I think I do get it, completely. I am that strong horse and I can fly. Realizing my PL only requires repeating that statement with increasing confidence. And when I utter those words, I am saying to myself and the world: "I am a writer and I am going to Paris!!!"

The rest is up to the universe to unfold in due time. And just as with my dream, I know that in pursuing my PL, I will be continually surprised but will always find life beautiful. 

Approaching Wisdom

"The foliage has been losing its freshness through the month of August, and here and there a yellow leaf shows itself like the first gray hair amidst the locks of a beauty who has seen one season too many."
-Oliver Wendell Holmes

*Image from here.

No Man is an Island

Certainly, you've heard this phrase. My mention of it here was inspired by back and forth commenting between Richard and myself a couple of posts below, here. This phrase is also particularly ringing true in my life right now, as I am feeling incredibly inspired by the opportunity to actively better humanity. And really, we can't fully enjoy the experience of living a fulfilling life unless we first give ourselves completely to it.

In its full origin: "All mankind is of one author, and is one volume; when one man dies, one chapter is not torn out of the book, but translated into a better language; and every chapter must be so translated...As therefore the bell that rings to a sermon, calls not upon the preacher only, but upon the congregation to come: so this bell calls us all: but how much more me, who am brought so near the door by this sickness....No man is an island, entire of itself...any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind; and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee." -John Donne (1572-1631) as appearing in Devotions Upon Emergent Occasions, Meditation XVII.

Essentially, the meaning, as simply (and thus, perfectly) as it is stated on The Phrase Finder, is that "human beings do not thrive when isolated from others." We often feel that we should be able to do it all on our own, that we are inadequate because we don't possess "enough" strengths to do it all. In my own life this burdened notion has plagued my abilities considerably. For so long, I have beaten myself up over the characteristics I don't possess, rather than manifesting those I do. I also have a great tendency to turn inward and can easily isolate myself in thought. But there comes a point in which even I am now aware, that too much isolation and introspection can be unhealthy. We belong to a community for a reason. We are not here to act out our own desires all the time. Anyone who has had a bout of utter selfishness (and really, haven't we all?!) realizes how completely empty it is. I think it is important to look inward but not only so that we should know ourselves better but for the ultimate end of being willing and able to more fully contribute our strengths and character to the collective community.

No man is an island. Think about that phrase. An island. Even a big island is very limited. Without a doubt "successful" people (however you personally define that word) do not achieve such success entirely on their own. The support and encouragement of others made their success possible. It is ridiculous to esteem Donald Trump or Michael Jordan solely because they worked hard to develop themselves. Their success is due in large to the fact that they effectively utilized the talents of others, they relied on support and encouragement from others, and called upon role models for inspiration and resilience. It reminds me of the history of the yeoman farmer, particularly in the Appalachians. Each of these freeholding farmers had their own particular expertise in a specific crop/farm/ability. They lived in clusters so as to benefit from one another's expertise. A dairy farmer, a sheep herder, a blacksmith, seamstress, etc. They each manifested their abilities to not only make a living for themselves but so as to effectively participate in a community. This made each member of the community immensely valuable.

Now there is undeniably this fierce value of individualism. So often, society expects the impoverished to bootstrap themselves out of their situation, as though these impoverished people have all the means and opportunities that we do. Think for a minute...what if the coffee growers in Brazil or the dairy farmers in America stopped producing, regardless of government or corporate intervention? We may not realize, but we rely on the efforts and expertise of others for almost everything we have. We also may not full realize that these people are often exploited for our benefit. But it doesn't have to be this way. And I am not saying that awaress of such requires that we relinquish our individual hopes and desires altogether. But why can't we help one another achieve such? Isn't it much easier to build a house with the help of others?

Collective consciousness is key. But we must first, as individuals raised in a society that esteems individualism, establish an individual awareness that we are part of something bigger than ourselves. And that something, humanity, must be nurtured above all else. We cannot realize our full potential in isolation.

Signs?!

In the last month or so, I've asked for deliberate signs regarding a significant part of my life. The first time I asked, I received two undeniable signs the very next day. I came very close to but did not fully act on it. Yet again, I asked for a sign. Little did I know that this next sign I was to receive was prefaced by a dream that had been lingering in my thoughts for a couple of months. When the sign came last week, I laughed out loud...it was so evident and presented itself in such an unexpected and comical manner that my dream did not foreshadow.

Can we create such signs subconcisiously? Maybe. But these are beyond the powers of my creative imagination. And even more interesting, someone else is having these signs on my behalf too. And before you ask, I have not been on a bender and these signs were in no way induced by drugs or alcohol. On the contrary, I've simplified so much and am really happy with the way I've been leading my life.

It's complicated though. Very complicated. And truly, only because I make it so.

Despite having simplified my life in so many ways, I still manage to complicate certain things...and how beautifully I complicate them!

Hero

I have heroes on the brain these days. This is due entirely to Manifesting Jack's own soul searching with regard to heroes, in his quest to publish his book and emerge as a great alternative to our traditional concept of a self-help guru.

In reading Jack's consideration of heroes, I realized that I do not consciously rely on heroes...nor have I really given much thought to who my heroes might be. Immediately, Joseph Campbell and the Dalai Lama come to mind. They both inspire me and transcend the limitations of attaching themselves to a narrow perspective (i.e. one supreme religion). But before I get ahead of myself, I have to really look at what "hero" means to me. What traits would lend to my conception of a hero? Defintely the following:

-integrity
-humility
-compassion for humanity (truly regardless of race, gender, religion, etc. and all differences)
-wisdom (steeped in various experience, knowledge, and good judgment as a result)
-bliss (true happiness with themselves and life)
-generosity
-capacity for selflessness (cultivates themself but is highly considerate and altruistic)
-humble beginnings (as Jack pointed out in his consideration, it is difficult to esteem someone to the level of hero when they inherited much of their opportunities, rather than earning them by merit)
-positive influence (must be leaving/have left a positive influence)
-inspiring (inspire others to be the happiest and best individuals they can possibly be)

I think that is a good start. And re-reading the list makes me wonder why heroes get so romanticized as these larger-than-life beings, when really, a hero embodies simple and realistically achievable traits. And I definitely romanticize things in general as a dreamer. But really, a hero for me does not possess superhuman traits.

What traits do you think a hero embodies and who would you name as your heroes?

The Same Manner

"The great secret, Eliza, is not having bad manners or good manners or any other particular sort of manners, but having the same manner for all human souls: in short, behaving as if you were in Heaven, where there are no third-class carriages, and one soul is as good as another."

- George Bernard Shaw, Pygmailion

The Wheel of Fortune

As this year comes to a close, I find myself naturally reflecting on what an eventful year it has been. The beginning of the year started with my car sinking, my neck re-injury, discussion of partial adoption/custody of my niece, and my uncle's death. And now, the year is ending with another car accident which has provided another painful neck episode, a serious change of direction for me where school is concerned, and the promise of a new love.

I've decided to quit graduate school and there are many significant reasons behind this that I'd rather not go into. So, that brings about a great change of direction for me and a lot of decisions must be made. And that, on top of this past year in general, makes me think so much about the ups and downs of life. Life really is always in constant cyclical motion. It's a basic premise...we are born, we live, experience, and then we slow down and die. Cycle of life.

In our lives, there will always be those moments of brilliance, clarity, extreme happiness...just as there will always be those moments of frustration, cloudiness, and extreme sadness. Fortune or luck comes our way and then bad fortune or bad luck comes our way. But life doesn't have to be this either/or existence. It takes considerable and constant effort to really focus on the core of who we are...beyond situational ups and downs...those elements of self that can be nurtured and relied upon for strength and peace to deal with all that is everchanging around us. We each possess a core...the hub of the wheel, if you will...and I wonder why it seems so difficult at times to really focus and draw upon that fundamental sense of self when the world is spinning around us. In large, I think that the momentum of the wheel of change...ups, downs, transitions...can be overwhelming.

It is easy to allow one's place on the wheel to dictate how one feels at a given moment in time. But it doesn't have to be that way. We don't have to rely so heavily upon our fortune at a given moment in time to dictate our ultimate happiness or sense of self worth. If we focus on the core of who we are, what really matters to us in life, etc., then those ups and downs will be easier to manage, to appreciate, and to grow from.

So, I am drawing upon this symbol of the wheel of fortune. Yes, the image and the description I am about to provide are based on tarot...something I do not buy into as a belief system or predictor of the future. I don't believe in any religion for that matter. But, I think that this symbol is very apt and I will likely utilize other tarot images in the future, as they can be symbolically effective. More than anything, I came across this image and it really provided great perspective.


THE WHEEL OF FORTUNE
"May change support your growth."

The central theme of what is traditionally called the Wheel of Fortune
card is cyclical change. The Wheel keeps on rolling, churning events
in a ceaseless progression of ups and downs, either way freeing us
from the past. No one can escape its cyclical action, which can feel
somewhat terrifying -- no matter whether we are rising or falling.
When one is balanced on top there is a moment of crystal clarity, but
the only part of the Wheel not going up and down is the hub, which is
your eternal Self, the Source of Freedom.

Every one of us will occupy all the points on the wheel at some time
or another. The cycle of the wheel is its lesson -- and we can learn
to take comfort in it (as we do when we celebrate our birthday). If
you don't like the look of things right now, just wait -- things will
change. Of course, if you do like the look of things right now, enjoy
it while it lasts, because that will change too!

*image and description nabbed from www.tarot.com