Good Morning,
The morning light has shown itself but without a glimpse of sun. It is a moody September morning with steel gray skies. The air is raw and cold. The Grandpa Ott’s morning glories have bloomed, yet again, despite the weather. They sit atop the arbor showing their bright purple faces. They were planted at least ten years ago. It began with just one pot purchased at a favorite farm stand. During the growing season I pluck out hundreds of new shoots. It has become a serious weeding task. They grow amongst the climbing roses, adding a bit of humor.
On a cold, late September morning, they offer inspiration for writing and for life. After all these years enduring difficult winters, they return without skipping a beat. They are endlessly cheerful and multiply despite the challenges of New England weather. Some morning soon, I will awaken after the first killing frost, only to find them limp on the vine. They will be cut back to the ground, but not before they drop their seeds into the soil to grace the garden next year.
Aren’t our creative pursuits like this? We sow the seeds, wait, wait some more, and hope for a positive result. We also weed out quite a bit. Not every creative project is meant to come to fruition. It is a challenge to decide when it is time to send a project to the compost pile. Yet, it offers us a different perspective if we think of those abandoned projects as a kind of creative compost that will decompose into something fertile and provide nourishment to our work.
The critical inner voice might lead us to believe otherwise, but it is important to remember the inherent value in the trial and error method. The creative process doesn’t just arrive. It requires hard work and a great deal of courage. We need to learn to trust in the process. But, most of all, we need to believe in ourselves. In order to move forward, we need to acknowledge our resilience, our gifts, our limits, and our ability to persist.
This morning we begin again.
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September 20, 2014
