7 June 2017

Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go.  ~T.S. Eliot

I’ve been practicing a dance move that is a shift of weight with enough momentum to produce a sliding landing on one calf.  It looks easy.  It is easy, for the instructor.  I watch.  I practice the lead up.  I imagine the transfer of weight, the energy, the slide.  Then, ultimately, I have to just commit.

Committing in the face of not knowing seems like trust to me.  We do this physically.  We do it emotionally.  Think of the times you’ve been honest in a dicey situation, offered an opinion you were afraid might not be popular, been kind in the face of it all.

Vulnerable actions, creative undertakings and adventures are inherently risky and unpredictable.

Despite my efforts, I bungle this dance move and bang my knee repeatedly.  And yet, this matters to me.  And so, I continue trying.

When we begin work on any blank canvas, it is an unknown journey.  When we let our off-beat flag fly, we can’t know how it will be received.  When we spread open our heart to caring, there are no guarantees.   We embark without knowing.

But, engaging in creative endeavors, exposing our softest emotions, experimenting with new interests — these things all fertilize our lives.

I head out in the wrong direction before I figure out the path I want.  I unwittingly offer exactly the wrong sentiment to a friend in need.  Then I remind myself that while the outcome is not what I hoped, this is not failure.  This is not a reason to stop trusting.  In fact, this is exactly the reason to nurture a resilient trust.  A trust that can sustain and persist.  A courageous trust.

Like flowers opening without any certainty of weather or pollination or admiration, acts of courageous trust blossom beauty and vitality in our lives.