This is a set of conceptual equation and theorems that my intuition says is true:
If love = life = growth = change = motion, then love = motion.
Motion (as it pertains to growth) can follow other motion or stillness.
In the moment preceding motion, which may be stillness, lives possibility.
Therefore, possibility exists as a precursor to love and life.
I am currently in the moment of possibility with my career (not the art, which is always in a state of possibility, but the part that gives me a steady paycheck). That moment of stillness that precedes motion (which is change, growth, love, and life). It is the perfect circumstance in which your life hands you a new set of directives, opens doors, nudges you through the words of others, and brings you to a clearing, like the wide open spaces of the desert at Chaco Canyon, or Valle Vidal.
At lunch I sat at a table on a sidewalk downtown, eating soup and looking up at an empty white building across the street, feeling the sun on my sweater and the breeze undoing my hair. I breathed deeply. My vision felt off (a stress response for me that reminds me of Tiresias, the blind prophet — minus his powers). I felt grounded in the thought that this is a fermata of life, before the symphony starts up again. Before taking a new plunge.
Then I walked to my favorite coffee shop, where the barristo (also an artist) and I talked about intuition in the body, the fire that lives in the belly, and how heeding the appetite of the stomach will lead one to sense the desires of the heart. After that five minute conversation, I re-emerged into the sunlight on the city street and felt a comfort nestled deep inside my own gut, the warmth of intuition.
We’re always changing, every cell in our bodies, every moment we travel around the sun, every passing second that we are snugly held in by gravity. Change can throw us into discomfort, which, if we feel it, will dissipate up and out of us when it needs to, but gravity will hold us as we move. The dignified balance of stasis and quickening.
And now I know this too: the quietness exists as an invitation to listen to myself before taking further steps. I remember one point in my life when I did not have enough faith to not step forward. Now I am standing still.
Until further notice.