There are many of us. We are interconnected through our dedication to whatever creative pursuit we engage in. In locations all over the world, and with heart and inspiration, we focus on the sustaining work that uses our full capacities. I think of us all as working separately together in an invisible creative monastery. I like to imagine that some noble purpose is synchronized through our actions. Daily, weekly, or when moved to do so, so many human beings are involved in some sort of unfolding of the implicate, surfacing the unseen or unconscious, bringing to light glimmering clues that announce themselves subtly, a call to follow. Taking this route leaves worldly considerations aside, going into the cave or shed or hut or studio, and just allowing that opening out.
If it is the right time, then the work proceeds. If not, then something happens to indicate another direction. Despite his deep desire to stay in a cave and meditate, our friend Shamcher found he had a growling cave-mate, a Himalayan bear, who sent him back out into the world to promote OTEC1.
As for me, so far so good. I’m engaged by writing, both this newsletter and a follow-up novel to “Attars”. Since moving away from client work, I’m now fully involved, doing my part, working in the creative monastery.
How about you? What’s your latest way of zoning in and bringing it out? Let us know in the comments space. (If for some reason the comment button doesn’t work, just reply to this email and I’ll post it for you.)
It’s been just over a year since we moved to Salt Spring. I had thought I was coming to the island, but I’m now aware of the ways the island has come to me - to change me and bring me closer. I’m a listener, and I’m learning. In stories, the landscape and location are often background to the characters’ lives, and sometimes even come forward as protagonists. Here rain is a member of the family. Trees are companions living just outside the door. Ocean is an influencer, broadcasting her moods. Moon and sun always make their regular appearances, transformed or hidden in a cloud disguise. Through the living room window, the long rays of the winter sun mark the increments of our planet’s rotation in space. The house seems to be solid on the rock of the island, but it moves throughout the days as our planet turns. Everything here moves, changes, evolves, renews, decays, becomes and unbecomes. I’m thrilled and grateful to be involved!
I’ll be sending out little amuse-bouche thoughts frequently throughout December and into the new year - not exactly an advent calendar but close to it. Watch your inbox!
Thanks so much for reading, commenting, and subscribing. It means a lot to me.
Catch up on earlier issues HERE, or if you’re reading this on the web, scroll down, or check out last year’s Annual!
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OTEC: Ocean Thermal Energy Conversion - benign solar power from the sea.
Love "Creative Monastery". Makes me want to leave the Big Island for Salt Spring!
Sweet soul, thank you for sharing the creative, individual monastic concept of connection through creative space. I am quilting and thinking about drawing railroad lines, linking spaces and love and potential. My pens haven't yet touched paper, still in an imagining phase.
I look forward to the amuse bouche thoughts!