Thinking about firsts and lasts in my life, I automatically begin with events and accomplishments. Firsts such as driving a car, earning a degree, holding each newborn child, experiencing a rainstorm with the new steel roof. Lasts include the last time I got a massage, went on a family vacation, had a snow day, tried a new wine. All of these put a smile on my face.
But then the next layer relaxes in. What about the first time I acted on my intuition instead of just acknowledging it? The last time I kept a comment to myself? The first time I responded out of faith instead of fear? The last time I let go of being right?
Our firsts and lasts connect. The first time I let go of the outcome is the last time I’ve cried in despair. The first time I accepted myself right here and now is the last time I wondered if I was good enough. The first time I said “I am” is the last time I floundered.
(I just began Lisa Fugard’s “21 Days to Awaken the Writer Within”, an eBook I purchased from Hay House. It’s an active program of personal writing. Cool!)
A man’s work is nothing but this long slow trek through the detours of art to discover those two or three great images when his heart first opened. ~Albert Camus
This is designed to inspire me to write. It does, but not perhaps for the expected reasons: Camus is wrong.
I love his phrase “detours of art”. I grew up with reason first, art second. And that art was more in the form of appreciation of others’, and less as an appreciated creation or expression from within. Art indeed were nice detours, but then it was time to get back on the main road. This resonates with me as I think about my childhood with a smile.
However, that is not my truth today. The more I explore and embrace my writing, art becomes the main road. Other things are the detour. This is true for many. (As is Camus’ interpretation. Or is it my (mis)interpretation of his interpretation?!? Aha! There’s that reason creeping in!)
I also completely disagree with “two or three great images”. I love his imagery of a heart first opening, but there are an infinite amount of great images. And the heart continues to open deeper and deeper. Camus makes art sound static and attainable. My experience tells me it is dynamic, evolving, and not subservient. Although I may capture a moment I do not contain the whole. Art is not under control, it is a guiding energy.
Camus makes it sound like a plodding life of unsuccessfully trying to regain a quick glimpse of heaven. That is not my concept of art. A joyous life of continually expressing heaven is how I describe it.
A soul’s task is simply this joyous dance through the doorways of art to continuously discover these infinite great images as our hearts repeatedly open. ~Gina Drellack