It is around 7:30pm. I can’t be sure because I’m not looking at the clock. I am in the middle of a group meditation, seated on a blue cushion, legs crossed in front of me. The sun is almost setting and I am trying to focus on feeling my breath move down my energy centers. The kids outside are screaming and chasing each other around on their scooters with their Superman capes.
I inhale deeply. And then I see the images. Clearly. Consecutively. Telling a story. Like comic book squares. I feel tiny tears form in the corner of my eyes and slowly slide down my cheeks. I focus on our meditation teacher but see these pictures in my mind’s eye. Downloading. They have chosen me to bring them to life.
It is 8pm, and obediently I fumble for my watercolor paper. I sketch out the pictures I’d been shown by some higher source in the past half hour. I make every effort to turn down the judging part of my brain that tells me I should wait until tomorrow when I have more energy. It’s hard to do a good job of drawing and painting the sequence after an incredibly long day. But I ignore that voice- it’s Resistance, who is always complaining and telling me that my work isn’t good enough, or too silly, or irrelevant.
But for my three friends and colleagues who recently lost their fathers in the past two weeks, it IS relevant. This message is for them. I sent my friend the original when she asked if it could be printed. Mailing it to her was one of the most rewarding contributions I made last week.
There is a life force, a vitality, an energy, that flows through each of us. We are all different, with our own voices and perspectives and ways that we see the world. This expression is as unique as your fingerprint. If you block this creative energy, it will never exist through any other medium. It simply cannot come into this world. It isn’t up to us to judge how good or valuable or relevant it is in comparison to other people’s art. It is our job to create. To be a creative conduit. To keep the channel open.