You are here, where do you want to go? Sometimes my impatience with “not knowing” works for me, sometimes it doesn’t.  How about you?

Even the wildest dreams have to start somewhere. Allow yourself the time and space to let your mind wander and your imagination fly.

— Oprah Winfrey

Have you sensed a theme in my recent posts?  Me too.  It’s not that I don’t have goals.  I do.  It’s that they lack joie de vivre – there’s no exuberance, no juice in them. So, even though I may be feeling the stirrings of new beginnings, my “vision”, my long-view is clouded and I’m left longing for some sparkling clarity! I am here, where do I want to go – I want to know now!

And while I’m counting on myself to create a new vision book that will engage my conscious and unconscious mind into knowing what my dreams really look like, I’m also feeling the equivalent of writer’s block… As I’ve said before, I’m not looking for standard future fare: career, family, retirement, leisure activities – been there, done that, enjoying the fruits of my labors. No, this is a different nut to crack…Purpose with a capital “P”.  Good health and years to enjoy it.  Continuing (and some new) friendships… financial stability… a comfortable life style, not lavish but with some disposable income to squander would be nice. I know that’s asking a lot, especially in today’s economy, but it can’t hurt to dream a little dream for me…

Elusive Lifescapes

Day to day I do what needs to be done and then some.  But where is it I want to go?  And how do I embark on a journey of joy, a purposeful life?  My impatience with not-knowing taunts me; somehow, someway, I want to start painting with a joyful brush on this big canvas called my life…

There is no abstract art. You must always start with something. Afterward you can remove all traces of reality.

— Pablo Picasso

So – this much I’ve decided: that in addition to being “healthy, wealthy, active and wise”.  I want (putting it playfully with my very own concoction of pigeon-English/French that I made up just for the fun of it):

— Joie de vivre filled with à gogo of bons amis and raison d’être…
— A joyful life filled with plenty of good friends and reasons for being…

Even My Horoscope Says So

My horoscope for a recent July day said:

Your natural joie de vivre comes out no matter what you do.

And I thought – Yep – that’s what I’m talking about! Joie de vivre, please come out and play with me! Of course, the horoscope also went on to say something else I’ve been talking about:

Don’t push beyond your natural limits, even if you want to accomplish a lot more.

Sigh… I’ve Been Here Before

Once upon a time, I wrote a poem, and the remembering of it has me saying (like Yogi Berra), “déjà vu all over again…”  Apparently I’ve been here before.

Excerpts from “A Poet A’borning…” by Yours Truly

• Black her mood is.
  • Not a deep, despairing darkness
  • but a light-stealing fog of endless funk.
  • Lost, searching,
  • knowing not what she seeks,
  • she waits.
  • She wanders her days away saying,
  • I used to know where I was going.
  • -
• Black her nights were.
  • Not the nightshade of rejuvenating sleep
  • but the dirty tatter of restless insomnia.
  • Not a deep, despairing darkness
  • but a light-stealing fog of endless funk.
  • Lost, searching, knowing not what she seeks,
  • she waits.
  • She wanders her days away saying,
  • I used to know where I was going.
  • -
• Tortured, tangled thoughts
  • whip at the fuggy edges of awakeness
  • and light up the murky cloud banks
  • with streaks of brilliance,
  • skyrocketing traces of poems,
  • finished, brilliant,
  • and ephemeral.
  • But sleep seeps in
  • and steals away the clarity.

Are We There Yet?

And, just as I turned a corner while writing those earlier verses, perhaps I’m on the verge again:

• Gray her document is.
  • Not the sublime smoke of fine stationery
  • but the lonely emptiness of a blank page.
  • By day she struggles to capture
  • elusive poetry dreamed once upon a night.
  • Transient thoughts flicker as
  • her fingers plow black rows
  • across the glaring screen.
  • Fragile but tangible verses
  • speak of hope, vibrancy, joy.
  • Of life so abundant.
  • -
• Golden her nights are.
  • Not fool’s gold glitter nor flashy counterfeit.
  • But a carat-rich, white-gold setting
  • that showcases precious treasures.
  • Perhaps tonight
  • new poems will shine
  • across her dreamscape
  • to feed and inform tomorrow’s page.

So here I be, letting my mind wander and my imagination fly… Wait for it Ellie, wait for it… Sigh…

You are here, where do you want to go? Sometimes my impatience with “not knowing” works for me, sometimes it doesn’t.  How about you?