guidance

There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle. 

Albert Einstein

     I've always had a sense that there's an entity, an intelligence within me making most of my decisions. I think this is true of us all. Whether it's making a choice of where to live, what to wear, what music we want to hear, what we want to eat - just about anything - we are as likely to ask "what do you feel like?" when we're trying to decide. I think this is especially true where creativity is concerned. Imagination lives, is centred in this place, I believe.
     But, although we all have this imaginative place, this creative energy core, we don't all readily express ourselves through it. And, I wonder why. 
     For me, the answer lies in being given, in our early years, the reassurance that imagination - and that knowing, expressing, living that imagination - is good and natural; that it is a fundamental element of what makes us who we are: unique.
     It's Winter where I live, with lots of snow on the ground. Recently, I was returning with my dog, Annie, from a walk. She was, as usual, happily trotting slightly ahead of me, sniffing at everything she passed. From time to time she turned her head back to me, just making sure I was still with her while she explored; making sure that all was right.
     There's a school yard and playground near our house and, as we passed, I noted a handful of kids playing there, sliding down a short, small mound. As Annie and I passed, a three or four year old girl slid down the snowy slope. At the bottom, she turned back to look to her mother, who was watching from the top of the mound. The girl's eyes, her smile, her whole face spoke in that completely honest, guileless way of all children; she only had eyes for her mother. I looked at her mother. She only had eyes for her child, and she cheered happily for her daughter's joy in the experience. This simple demonstration of support struck me. I recognised how important it was.
     In that moment, watching the mother and her child, I was suddenly taken back in time to my own childhood, and it was easy for me to see myself in that little girl. But I did not see my mother, nor my father.
     And I felt how very much I have been alone during my life; how very much I have kept so much of my imagination to myself because I have been afraid to express it; because I was never encouraged to express it; to feel that it was part of who I am.
     Taking any step into the unknown - even in as small an imaginative exploration such as that little girl sliding in the snow - always involves overcoming fears of that unknown. Creativity, imagination, artistry and exploration will always be alive in us; they are energies that will always seek a place to...happen, to display, to grow, and to constantly evolve. And they will happen either within us, privately, or without, publicly. If we they are nurtured when we are young, they will happen naturally, easily - so wonderfully expressive of who we are - and we will be a more complete and real person. If they are not nurtured, then the universe is denied the creativity and imagination of one more complete soul. And I wonder now, for how many of us has this been the case in our lives?
     After a moment, Annie and I resumed our walk; she, trotting slightly ahead, ever inquisitive, but turning her head regularly, just to confirm that I was still there with her.