Remembering

This weekend I found that I didn't have the focus or the patience to sit down to do the exercises in either of the two books I've mentioned and so I dipped into a different ones.  Sorry that all of the books I list will be older - some because I've acquired them during my 30+ years in ministry, and some because the books that have been recommended seem to be those that are not recently published.

Anyway, I turned to Simple Abundance  This is a daybook -- with readings for each day of the year.  So I flipped the book to July 26 and was invited to "Discover What You'd Like to Do, If You Ever Had the Time.  How appropriate for someone who has the time and is exploring what I'd like to do with it.  Part of the exercise was to reflect on all of the things that gave me pleasure when I was growing up.  Some things I could easily remember, and some were quickly discarded.  But many more remained hidden, and it was only when I was out walking that my mind slipped its bonds and remembered and mused.

I used to like to roller skate (before the days of inline skates or roller blades) and to cross country ski, and to ice skate ... I also remember how I liked to climb trees - especially if there were lower branches which made climbing easier.  I remember how before pseudo-sophistication kicked in my best friend and I would climb a tree which had wide branches that made comfortable seats, and we would read stories that we had written.  Yes, Nancy, I know that most of what we wrote was crazy and is best left buried in the past, but I do remember how much pleasure we derived from our dreams and daydreams and cockamamie schemes which hurt no one but let our imaginations soar, completely unfettered by reality..

And remembering, I wondered if this is what was intended by that voice.  Is it beckoning to writing for pleasure?  Writing, not simply a blog, but something more and something different and something that has its roots in those days now long gone ...  

Some years ago I found a counted cross stitch pattern that captured the spirit of those days for me, and I even began to stitch it.  But somewhere along the way it lost its appeal.  I kept it in the WIP file (Work In Progress) for some years before acknowledging that it was a dream that either wasn't meant to be, or a symbol that had served its purpose, and I let it go    Perhaps that was more symbolic than I knew at the time.

And so the spark for new dreams and new visions is there.  It seems that so many things I pick up these days carry an invitation to dream and discern and rediscover ...  And so I plan to continue.  But I also acknowledge that I am not yet ready to devote time every day to this endeavour.  Perhaps I started prematurely, or perhaps my muse is enticing me to play with my dreams, my visions, and my time, and not to take myself or this process so seriously, but to listen to the spirit and to respond freely and openly.  I do not yet know.

I only know that already, even if it is only here, I have once again begun to write.