A Storm is Coming

There is a powerful, transformative reality, beyond what we can see. At least, most days. It is there, somewhere in the sky. A hidden power. A boundless energy. One day, then, it releases. In vigor and strength. The storm releases with all its fury and might.

Whoa! Here it comes. [massive storm hits]

When we experience the power of the storm, especially up close, we sense its wildness. Its danger. Its unpredictability. Its velocity and power to remind us we have absolutely no way of controlling it. Even if we can see it. Locate it. Watch it. We can not stop it!

We can simply experience it. Or try to avoid it. Hide. Sleep. Or otherwise deflect the power of it. We may have some protective tools to avoid getting wet. But is it so great to stay dry? When we avoid the storm, and even its rage, we miss the transformative power of it.

The storm is our life untamed, our calling directly from the divine.

Accepting our call is about letting go. Growing beyond what we know, what we think is true. To what is. Experiencing the thrill of living. The journey of discovery. The pursuit of dreams. Not because we are special. But are truly unique. Set apart for a very particular thing.

That makes us special. But not in the way we sometimes think about it. We think privileged. Unfairly gifted. Or advantaged. But our uniqueness is actually what makes us special. No amount of privilege sets anyone apart. Privilege can not sustain a calling.

Only our particularity: our unique sense of self in our unique set of circumstances.

Our interesting-ness. Which is directly connected to our particular, or unique blending of gifts. We can in no way take credit for such gifts. Yet failure to cultivate and enjoy them is on us. We are still on the hook, not to perform, but to accept and take pleasure in them.

In ourselves.

To let the seeds become what they must become. To grow. To flourish. To make their way into the world. And while they are extensions of ourselves, they are not us. But they could not exist without us. They are necessarily within and without us. Both inside and out us.

And our children, whether biological or creative enterprises, both represent us and do not. They draw out certain pieces of us for sure. But they are not us. And we can not coerce them to be us. They must become themselves. Like us, unique. Perfect in their own right.

So while they reflect us, they go beyond us. They expand us beyond our physical limitations. They reflect back to us. Made in our image, they refract the light found in us out into the world. This is a beautiful gift. A shared pursuit of the Armies of Light (AOL).

This is why creative projects are part of this invisible kingdom of grace (the AOL). They last. Beyond us. Like the words of the Rabbi, once spoken in the time and space of this world, made accessible - and therefore eternal, in the written Gospels. Saved forever. Beyonds worlds.

Timeless.

The eternal is making its way into the temporal. Heaven haunting earth. That is art. Luring us. Shouting at us. Directing us. Re-directing us. Reminding us who we are. Reminding us that all things will be connected again. We can have hope.

The call of the artist is to reveal that hope, one tiny eternal-sized installment at a time.