Are you Sir Isaac Newton?

You are not.

I like the story about Newton and the plague.  Sometimes weird circumstances unlock new ways of thinking, or seeing.

That’s good stuff.

I am still not quite ready to jump into more serious creative work.  (Working on essays for publication, working on one of the books I have written, starting a new book.)  That’s okay.

For many people, they need a certain level of safety to create.

Other people need the wind and a whip at their backs.

We have all, now, gone into this dark and fearful forest.  What’s intriguing to me is that we will all be changed by this, and that change could be for the better.

You could be softer, more empathetic, more patient.  You could finally have time to think about where you are, and what you want to do in the future.

This is all creative work.  Creative work isn’t just painting pictures or writing books.

We will be changed.  We do not have control over all of the change.  I’m still mad about it, but we don’t have control over anything, fully.

We have some choices about how we are changed.  We can open up to change.  We can dance through change.  We can nap through change, and get a better idea of what our subconscious wants to say.  We can argue with change, and get engaged with it.

I’ve said it many times, but for me, it was a big step toward maturity to accept that I am not Shakespeare.  I was an ambitious child.

It’s okay though.  Shakespeare was Shakespeare.  Nobody else has to be him, or do that.

There are other things you can do and be.

Know that this is a reasonable time to fall apart, to let things fall away, and keep your spirit patiently watching.  Your spirit, your soul, is still quiet and peaceful.  That’s its nature.  It’s in there.  You might now get still enough to hear it.

I hate change.  One of my saddest days was the day my regular coffeehouse closed.  I spent so much time there, my mom would call there looking for me, and the staff were like, “Here, Liz.”  I drove up and the door was locked and closed.  I had no idea what to do.

Here’s what to do: the next right thing (as Anna and others say).  Seek out the art that speaks to you, and to now. Love what there is to love.

Watch apples fall.

They’re meant to.

Image: “Young Woman Peeling Apples,” Nicolaes Maes, ca. 1655.

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