Hope – Path of Inspiration – Day 29

Hope – Path of Inspiration – Day 29

When inspiration takes you down side roads for a meandering moment, space is opened between what must be done and what is possible. Traveling along the road of life reminds me that we often focus on an endpoint while forgetting to make time for inspiration along the way. Why are we always in such a hurry?  Do we actually ever arrive in life?

In a hurried life, paths we choose may not allow time for whimsical detours or perceived frivolities.  Likewise, when we travel, our planned arrival time typically sets in motion the fastest and most efficient route to our destination.

I still mourn a missed opportunity during my last road trip to stop for a moment, to capture a “photograph to be” calling to me, once the goal of arriving took over as the priority.

Remember when time seemed to last forever.  You didn’t count the minutes or the hours because you didn’t know they even existed.  Your days were filled with adventure, entertaining inspiration, while learning and growing.

At what point did we allow a clock to determine our life’s path?  When did our accomplishments become measured between numbers and our purpose quantified by a dictated plan on a to-do list?

Once inspiration is lost, motivation fades and energy wanes.

Productivity is a sum of variables and can be looked upon as so much more than a completed checklist of tasks.  So, I remind myself to take the time to savor the joys of inspiration.  Without it, life seems drab and daily motions become robotic.  

Our life may indeed hold a hidden algorithm, but we can always input new variables. 

Look around you and sense your current environment.  We were meant to do more than simply survive, we were meant to use our senses and dream of possibilities.  Anything is possible especially when time is not dictating what is possible.  Inspiration changes the clock. 

As we head toward a planned destination, the joy of inspiration will expand the frame along the way.

The stars come out every night, but our view of those stars changes with our perspective.  On days of hurry or disinterest, we miss them completely.  On nights where gloom clouds their view, they may not appear at all.  When we make the time to see them, we know the plan is so much bigger than what exists in the 24 hours we are given each day.  

Hope lives in the inspiration of living life to its fullest, when we remember to smell the flowers, listen to our hearts, take the pictures, and gaze at the stars.

Take some time to meander down the path of inspiration.

-Erika K Rothwell

Hope Believes – Day 13

Hope Believes – Day 13

Hope believes the time will come.  I didn’t sleep well last night.  For some reason, my body clock believed it was time to be awake from 1:30 a.m to 4:00 a.m.  And as my mind conversed with itself, it was agreed that sleep would come when it’s time.

Carrying a heavy head today, slowly and mechanically going through the necessary motions of the day eventually brought me to my desk.  It was time to write.  Yet my mind and heart couldn’t connect as easily as yesterday.  And so the conversation with myself continued, “you will write something of value when it’s time.”

As many of you may have read in previous posts, time is one of my fascinations.  So it is fitting that my relationship with hope has brought me to the intersection of time and space.

Over many years, I used up time hurrying and struggling to keep up with self-imposed expectations.  It is only recently I learned to slow down enough to appreciate the space between time and the power of the pauses while I patiently wait for the right time.

However, I still need to learn.  My hopeful anticipation when I’m assured of a certain outcome differs significantly from enduring a proverbial walk through a desert searching for a stream.  Why do we find it so much easier to retain a hopeful spirit as we move toward an expected outcome than to believe that our needs will be met when wandering in the wilderness without a clear destination in sight? 

It takes faith to bring us hope.  Hope is the stream in the desert.  It will sustain us.  So many times we forget to believe and we may lose our way.  But believing that everything will come in its own due time…may just be the hope that brings us what we need.

-Erika K Rothwell

Hope Believes – Read by Erika K Rothwell

Time Inside a Dresser

Time Inside a Dresser

I emptied out a dresser today.  Most times, dressers are filled with clothes, but mine was filled with memories.  The school, drill team, and sports pictures were enough to make me cry.  It was the handmade Mother’s Day cards and artwork that had me sobbing.

I ask all of you, how is it possible that all of this life passes by us in a few short years?  I know you don’t have the answer, just like me.  The ultrasound picture of my youngest child growing inside of me alongside the framed print of my daughter’s ultrasound carrying my grandchild doesn’t make sense to me at this moment.  For, Time does not appear linear in this moment.  Einstein once wrote, “For us believing physicists, the distinction between past, present, and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion.”

Julian Barbour, a British physicist, describes time as “a succession of pictures, a succession of snapshots, changing continuously one into another. I’m looking at you; you’re nodding your head. Without that change, we wouldn’t have any notion of time.”

So time continues to be an illusion for those of us who resist the belief in linear time and reject the idea that time is understood past the moment of now.  Our brains struggle to categorize moments in static configurations, to support time being linear, yet it only illustrates linear time as it flows from the changes it senses.

Barbour goes on to outline “Nows” as the true explanation of time, ”We have the strong impression that things have definite positions relative to each other. I aim to abstract away everything we cannot see (directly or indirectly) and simply keep this idea of many different things coexisting at once. There are simply the Nows, nothing more, nothing less.”

I absolutely love how he outlines these nows as taking place simultaneously, outside of linear time, the very moments when you experience a memory alongside today and feel the coexistence.  This simultaneous existence describes my emotional state.  Time cannot have possibly passed, only by feeling the time that is now, unsure of any other moment beyond.  It is the present I feel.  To explain this by such a powerful intersection makes complete sense to me.

This explanation is deep, I know.  My father’s words written in a birthday card to my son when he was only three, as we awaited the arrival of his little brother awakened my memory of his continuous deep examination of time, questioning whether relative or illusory.  And I sense him here with me “Now” although he’s left us years ago.

To me today, I feel as Barbour did, when he stated: ”If you try to get your hands on time, it’s always slipping through your fingers.”

And if that’s true, I understand why I’m unable to grasp this moment in time because it was once there, I feel it now, and as the succession of pictures attempts to move me to accept the change, equal to the notion of time, I choose to hold tightly onto an illusion.

-Erika K Rothwell

The Gift of Time

The Gift of Time

I haven’t written in a while.  I must admit self-seeking endeavors came between me and you.  Life continues to provide me with powerful excuses to distract me from the matter at hand.

Yet it keeps gnawing at me, daily, the abyss of thoughts intertwined with feelings attempting to escape as a word canvas, wherein the artwork can be rendered.

The selfish part of me wants full attention to my words, and it is at this moment I recognize that I rarely give my full attention to any outside thing.  My art craves an outward positive glance and even a simple like.  The lesson stares me in the face, “to be liked, you must like first.”

I wrote something for you today, but the reality slapped me in the face, you are busy.  Busy like me.  You struggle to rise to daily challenges, and there is no time left for a meandering review.

Gifts exist in the name of time.  And so few of us have the luxury of having any left to give.

My post is short.  It was written just to let you know I’m still here.

-Erika K Rothwell