A day of connections at work

One after another, the folks came by and interacted with me. I suppose I had an inviting charm, even just sitting there, facing a wall, holding a paintbrush and focused intently doing my thing. Today I welcomed them in, starting conversations and asking deep questions about their lives. I am not sure what they are thinking in those moments of disturbance - in that time when they say something aloud to me - but some days I appreciate the distraction away from the work, and others I am irritated and annoyed. It oscillates between the two, and I imagine it is because of an imaginary (but very real) reserve of energy, from which one day I pour myself fully out and the next I pay for leaving myself not a trace of it. The dry spell of the next day slows me down and leaves my skin and eardrums extremely sensitive.

Yet I live for these moments. Connection with strangers, doorways to sameness, to relating, to understanding, to being seen, to perhaps change someone's life with one smile or one word of encouragement. Cyril was a friendly indigenous man who started speaking of his adult life without a partner, raising children and believing that "to be a man, and to have anything worthwhile to give a woman, he must be well off and have something to give her". The whole story of man as provider. Then there was Lee, a retired insurance broker with a tiny dog who explained that now that she has moved here post-retirement from Toronto and her sight has diminished "first 20/20, then 20/40, then 20/60", she is waiting for it to get bad enough to claim her horrible sight on her insurance to get "New Eyes", a new technology which looks like goggles but gives the blind new eyes! She also mentioned her investigative nature, reading crime sci fi novels - 5 a month or so compared to 5 a year - and her love of solving problems and finding solutions. I also met Jimmy, a man on a bike with a helmet full of rainbow stickers, who saw my attention to detail and asked me for my information as he'd like me to airbrush his motorcycle. Yesterday Clay showed up, a man living in Tiny Town, appreciating and really connecting with the artwork, with such a good understanding of colour and line and composition and theme and meaning, it blew me away. 

It's nice to write their stories. It's nice to focus on others.

Nectar

Today I witnessed a bee retrieving nectar from dainty little white and red flowers - sexy little danglers - which I have discovered after the fact are called "Salvia Hot Lips". It reached deep into every center, the flower's curves and contours seemingly asking for the intrusion. I thought to myself in that moment, I wonder what it feels like to be a flower, a Being possessive of such Godly golden dust, always vulnerable, open, ready to be devoured at any moment, giving selflessly... 

Would it feel ecstatic and orgasmic, to be suckled and tickled by every desiring visitor?  

On trusting myself

Yesterday my thoughts charmed me into wanting to do the opposite of what I am instinctively drawn to do. So far I have found that - if I tally in some strange way - when I am drawn to, say, an impulse such as going in the direction of an attractive man (whom in that one moment I have made into my future lover), it mostly turns out not "working out". They aren't attracted to me equally. I am not interested in them afterall. They are unavailable. They are this. They are that. I thought perhaps I should let go of such nonsense and change direction completely when I am under that influence. Yet today I realize that everything that is seemingly "unfruitful" - in the way that it was unsuccessful for partnership - has led me to the insights I am now blessed to be having. I have had the most beautiful spiritual openings the past two days, after a hard crash of the ego self from feeling rejection by someone who I was hopeful about, someone who sent my senses for a spin and made my thoughts go to the future. It was a brief encounter, and I managed to build a whole world around him (no wonder I went crashing).

So I thought: I must never crash again! What uselessness to involve myself so deeply in projections of the future with a man whom I don't know! 

But might this be the wrong way to think? What if I love these circumstances more than getting to settle and getting what I imagined? What if my growth is relative to the amount of fear I experience? It is scary to embark on quests such as romance, either with a complete stranger or with a friend I have known for years. Ultimately, they all lead to the same place: here.

What I am unsure of is what I "should" or "should not" be following. My instincts, my guts, my inner voice, my wisdom, this stuff that drags me to one direction or another, that allows me to choose, are unruly and untamed. Morals have a slight say in which is preferable,  but naturally I will act on a personal code that gets me what I think I want. Now, what is to say that one event is more or less successful than another? How can I rate my success of having listened to my inner chatter or my heartbeat in hindsight when everything has lined up perfectly to this moment? Who am I to say that being here is not as good as being there? Walking does not require careful examination and choice of every step, and yet we end up at the grocery store to buy the necessities. Does choosing the next move really depend on weighing options so diligently and carefully so as to not go in the wrong direction? What if there is no such thing as the wrong direction?

So many questions this morning. I haven't questioned in a while, not really. I mean, there are always questions, but not ones that shake my foundation and the way that I live my life. This one might be one of those.