Do routines suck the life out of our creativity and limit our sphere of experience, or provide a stable balance to it?
Friday, December 9, 2011
Though nothing is cemented yet, I feel elements of my hopes and dreams gathering -- like moisture in a distant summer storm picking up momentum.
The direction of this momentum remains unclear, but that's OK. The sense of the possible is a force unto itself that at times uses you as the vessel for it to manifest itself.
Life is a funny thing, with no rule book or sign posts. So we stumble along searching for where we're supposed to be, sometimes hoping the road will lead to where we want to be. But does our subconscious lead us to where we should be despite where we could be? Are we secretly the authors of our own destiny? Is the current we often struggle to resist that of our own internal voice, which knows where to take us?