“Idealism is a seed of naïveté once planted in a youthful heart that grew into a tree of hopefulness.” – Erika K Rothwell
It’s Monday again. Yes I am moving forward with hope. Yet, my mind stays persistently intertwined with the past. Stuck in an observation mode, I cling to new ideas as if a collection of fine jewelry meant to be coveted rather than worn.
The day seems too simple to be adorned in bright shiny new ideas. So, reflection pulls me deeper into acceptance of my inability to complete any one of my projects in progress and I find an odd sense of comfort in stagnation.
I turn my attention to the view outside my window where the bird couple has landed on the tree branch. I am reminded, once again, of the fleeting moments that pass by my eyes of observation, pleading to be captured in words. However, with the best plan in place, the hours still burn up in the heat of day, and I am left with ashes of intent.
I reread my words of the past, rediscovered today, in a note written to myself months ago. “Idealism is a seed of naïveté once planted in a youthful heart that grew into a tree of hopefulness.” My daydream is insistent and alive, albeit buried beneath the surface of deeply packed minutia.
A state of reflection along with my strange preoccupation with fantastical imagery, draws me into a centrifuge of swirling thoughts, finding myself unable to categorize or prioritize.
And as the birds fly away, I am left only with the “tree of hopefulness” and a reminder to persevere…
After a powerful pause, I answered him, “I’m not sure, let me give it some thought.”. “Novel idea.”, he responded. And I believe it was.
So many times in life, we are called to give a quick response and we fail to think and feel deeply through the process. Our swift knee-jerk reactions often lack discernment and an authentic pathway from our intuition.
To engage our hearts in our writing, a deep reflective pause may also be needed. So today, I “gave it some thought”.
I gazed out at the rain as nature’s portrait beckoned my melancholic spirit. Imagination cycled at an all-time high, yet connection to the simple became increasingly difficult until in the stillness of a moment I paused to examine the raindrop.
In a single raindrop, a world exists. A reflection of an artist of magnificent proportion, a creation of movement and energy in a perfectly designed, yet simple, jewel falling from the heavens feeding my soul with a lifetime of hope.
Suddenly with the recognition of nature’s kiss, I awoke from my meditative slumber to discover a shift in focus. My world came alive knit with stories and words of immense proportion that I knew needed to be shared with tenderness and the art of simplicity. My purpose was reignited and, with that, my next project was born.
With joyful appreciation, my dream was propelled outside of the hazy gloom of indecision and the supporting self-criticism fed by my inability to give an instant response.
In the inspiration of nature and a reflective pause, a “novel” idea and answer were unveiled.