(The chaos is not necessarily bad chaos, but is chaos none the less.
And sometimes sitting down to write focusses me. I think I get focused because I get something accomplished, even if it is just crazy scribbling.
I have about 3700 different ideas for a post, but I am doing what is in front of me, and that is a post inspired by my friend Sassy.
(Sassy is a wonderful writer/blogger/yogini and she is on my blogroll, so check her out for some awesomeness)
Sassy is divesting herself of stuff, which I have also been doing, those less publicly. I’m glad she’s sharing though, because what I read today inspired me to share this.
When I was on my road trip a few weeks ago I went to a little town in Arizona called Jerome. It once was a thriving copper mining town, and then reinvented as a sort of ghost town, and is now a sweet little artistic enclave. Only a few streets long, it is on top of a mountain, well, not a tall mountain, but it is high over the town of Cottonwood about a half hour away from Sedona. The views from there are epic…miles and miles of gorgeousness. And the shops run the gamut from kitschy little tourist traps to fabulous art galleries.
I wandered into a gallery called Zen Mountain Gallery and immediately fell in love. There was not a piece in the gallery that was not expertly curated by the owner, and very few that I did not personally want to own. There was one photo that was calling me though. I loved it for it’s colors which are very Sedona, the greens and reddish/orange. I loved it for it’s circle, the feeling of calm and peace it brought to me. I loved it for it’s title, Meditation #2.
When I told the owner I was drawn to something in the store he asked which, and when I pointed this out he was excited because it was one of his own pieces.He explained his process of taking photos of old things he sees in the desert or wherever, rusted out cars, tin cans, stuff…he then takes close photos and plays with the images, repurposing them into art. (His work is beautiful. If you want to check out more it’s Zen Mountain Gallery and his name is Christopher Mull, he has a website). Anyhow, we had a nice long chat and I left the store to think about buying the photo, though I must admit I pretty well knew I was going to. After walking around town I went back into the gallery and was, again, filled with a sense of the rightness of the piece, and Christopher, and the whole trip. The photo is now sitting on my mantel, propped in place, a beacon whenever I pass it and reminder to breathe, that I am on a path. It is perfect.
The way in which this relates back to Sassy’s post is that she was writing about an old picture that has never fit in her home, that was bought specifically for an old apartment of hers and has been lugged around with no purpose since then. I can so relate to that, and those are the types of things I am divesting myself of now too. Things that no longer serve me. Not necessarily just objects, sometimes they are people, sometimes habits, sometimes thoughts….
But This Photo. This photo felt exactly the opposite to me. It felt like hope. It felt like the future. It felt like the first object I was buying to introduce into my new life, my new place of living when I leave my home. It does feel like a meditation on all things new and surprising and forward, if that makes sense. I had to buy it. And it is propped on the mantel because I do not want to hang it. It will be hung, just not here, not in my home now, my present and past fusing. It will be hung in my future, my new.
Forward movement, looking ahead while staying grounded in the present. Like Sassy I will let go of so much as I slowly prepare to move ahead. This meditation will, however, fit my new place. It will define it.