I’ve been out of whack lately. The thing about being out of whack is that you don’t fully realize that you’re out of whack, but the people who know you the best can usually tell that you’re out of whack. You avoid these people because, even though you don’t know that you’re out of whack, deep down you really do know it, but if you admit to it, then you’re responsible to do something about it. Truth be told, you don’t know what to do about it, so denial remains the best course of action. Whew!
Actually, I didn’t realize how out of whack I was. I had inadvertently taken much of the positive energy that I was receiving from my work, and recycled it into anxiety. I did this by becoming obsessed with expectations, how tos, and outcomes. “How am I going to market my book? When will I get the e-book done? How can I drive people to my website? Will they love my novel as much as I do?” And then this weekend, after a very long period of scratchy static playing in my head, my spirit broke through the noise and spoke to me saying, “Hello! Spirit to Leah! — Sit still and do ONLY those things that you’re inspired to do.”
Wow! Makes sense! Actually, that’s how I used to do things—before I got out of whack. How could I have possibly forgotten something so simple?
Without inner discernment and direction I wouldn’t know what to do next, and the thousands of mass media voices that scream for my attention daily would eventually drive me loony! You know about those voices don’t you? They sound something like this:
Discover the 10 Secrets to Successful Everything.
Fifteen Things That Successful People NEVER Do.
How To Self-Publish Like a Pro
Five Things That Big Time Publisher’s Don’t Want You To Know.
And on and on…
I was inspired when I wrote my book. I was inspired when I started my blog. I was inspired when I published the book, although looking back on it now I can see that I began neglecting my life some time ago, forgetting that my life is the actual source of inspiration, and that the other things are merely the condiments. I guess I’ve been trying to survive on condiments for quite a while now, and although I learned as a young child how to appreciate the delectable tanginess of a mustard sandwich, the nutritional value of such food is very limited.
I treated my life as an intruder, becoming somewhat snappy with it when it would try to get my attention. Chronic intrusions tend to do that to you when you’re trying to concentrate on something that you perceive to be of the utmost importance—mustard.
My writing is supposed to reflect the content of my heart and life. It’s a tool for my soul’s expression—I forgot how important inspiration was—and how good it felt, and that inspiration is the soul’s perspiration, it only comes while engaged in active living. Without it we lose direction, heart, and power.
I started a month of meditation this month with Jodi, at Soul Speak and although I’ve fumbled along with it, fighting off monkey mind, forgetting to “check in” with the group, and fidgeting like a toddler in a car seat, I believe the mindfulness of setting a small part of my day aside for quiet time and reflection has helped me to rediscover my center. This is a perfect example of simple efforts being rewarded.
I realize now that man was not created for work, but work for man, and that putting anything ahead of the loving art of living is not art at all. It’s intrusive fear based busyness; the fruit of which can be very costly.
So, now I’m back to center where the essence of inspiration dominates over the stench of ego, and where my actions line up with my belief system—that I was created to learn, love, and give back, and that the order of things (and there is an order) will flow as I stay plugged into love and the limitless supply of inspiration that love provides.
As Corrie Ten Boom would say, “Snuggle don’t struggle.