I am still soaking in the truth that I am living in my once Ideal Imaginary Day. It has yet to feel like I dreamed it. I assumed this would be a place and time of life where I most understood the meaning of true joy. The exact opposite has proven true.
Everything is more glorious in it’s visionary state. Dreams seem to be backlit by an ethereal perfection that woos us like a Siren’s beauty. The sky is full of rainbows and childlike faith comes easy. It calls us forth to action in the pursuit of our metaphorical pot of gold. Then, before we know it, we arrive.
I’ve arrived to find my rainbow has disappeared and my pot of gold is emptier than it has ever been. I’ve become weighed down with anxiety and fear. Paralysis is threading its way through my spirit, mind, and body. The effortless light of motivation I once had has left a charred wick in it’s place.
The last four months have crept idly by. I circled my life around the false truth that my destiny is leading me to this ONE moment. Somewhere I have forgotten that the climax of my life is reunion with Christ. I may have mountains along the way but they are just that…mountains.
Painting is rarely the way that I refuel myself. It’s almost always the way that I express myself. It’s my language in a way. I’ve been approaching my studio and painting like it’s my life source. All that is required of me is to show up and I will find all of the creative energy needed. This is naive and has proven untrue. I have neglected my life source in Christ and it has left me fruitless, and paint-less.
My silence lately has been my attempt to remember the passions of my heart, then maybe I’ll find my expressive painting voice again. In a world way to distracted by social media, I never want to post something just for the sake of blogging. I appreciate your patience, and your desire to creatively journey through faith with me.
In the last year all of my energy has gone into building the foundation of my marriage and my studio. The vision of these things has long energized me; however, it’s in the hands on building of these visions that I have forgotten to refuel. The implementation of dreams is exhausting work. I understand why most people turn around in fear.
I know I am forever a dreamer but I desire to grow as an implementor. Has anyone else had trouble in this transition? How do you refuel yourself for the long tasks of building a dream to fruition?