We tend to speak of certain people when we speak of creativity.
The artistic being who sees the beauty of a moment, long before she’s able to catch it for eternity in a photograph.
Along 礼品之路 ( Lǐpǐn zhī lù ) I’m reminded that we all are creatives.
We all create.
Our words, seeds which grow & bear fruit.
Our creation not always pretty.
For often our words are filled with the destruction & dissapointment, the dissatisfaction to which we were given & to which we have given ourselves.
But we create.
The people in our proximity.
Our own tomorrow.
And the tomorrows of so many whom we touch in their being with words of kindness or words of ruination.
There are many explanations for how this world came into being.
I believe the story told by ancients.
The one speaking of our Origin, bringing this world to reality through words.
The Ancients relate it this way. They say it was all spoken. Wind, earth, water. And then our Origin took earth to form a vesel.
Until a breath.
From (s)He who is unfathomable.
The first & last, as far as our awareness goes, synergy between earth & wind.
Soul & matter, forged together, not through a word.
With fingers unseen.
And a sigh.
As if a pregnant moment finally burst free.
Constructed to our Origin’s intellection.
To speak, as (s)He spoke.
Not wind or earth or water.
As (s)He breathed life into us.
I also believe what the ancients chronicle with regards to a moment of loss, at a tree, as we took more than we should have.
As we always do.
So that now, in this moment, we are unaware.
Of the creative power.
Which we expend.
In every waking moment.
To create beauty.
It was at the dinner table, surrounded by friends, that Zuko said: if ever we travel abroad, I would like to travel differently, I would like to spend more than a week or two in a place. I’d like to live in a place. Months at a time. Not settling, but experiencing deeper.
And now we experience the distant Far East.
Her words, creating our future.
Travelers, who experiencing deeper.
It was in many deep intimate moments, shared only between me & Zuko, that we spoke about a family, children, a way of life less ordinary.
And now we live, and we will still live, with our four children, that life we spoke about.
That life expressed in words, first, then brought to reality, in some ways intentionally, in most ways by ‘accident’, swept away by the current of life.
Still it is what we spoke about.
We never spoke of wealth or opulence.
We spoke of intimacy.
A different way.
Of value & affection.
We spoke of tasting slowly, of authenticity & happiness.
Which we have.
All of it.
We spoke of excitement & variety.
And it comes to be.
This is no abracadabra-magic spell.
Perhaps it is our being reaching into reality?
Our unique synergious existence continuing to create as we were created?
Whatever it is, our words create.
The only thing lost, in that moment of which the ancients speak, the loveliness of that which we bring to life, even that regainable, in at-one-ment with our Origin, from whom we come & return, constantly and all at once.
And so we speak.
In our at-one-ment.
Of chance to be.
We speak of giving what is given to us.
And we know our words are true.
All of our words are always true.
Yours & mine.
And so we hope, as these words are spoken, that in your life too will be, a new awareness, of how you create, unburdened – not worried about words previously spoken – but filled, to the brim, with new words, the Word, if you will, which will bring to life, in you & all you affect, an unknown felicity, framed by peace & love, as you live and are all of that which you were created to be.
In at-one-ment with the Word through whom everything is, we tell our children how wonderful they are.
And they are.
We tell our life-partners how they complete us.
And they do.
In at-one-ment with the Word through whom everything is, we express our hope to be free.
And we become.
In at-one-ment with the Word through whom everything is, we speak of finding meaning, of affecting our little bit of world with deep affection.
We speak of joy.
We speak of peace.
And it flows.
Into our existence.
And from our existence.
Received & given, without differentiation between the moments.
To your words.
See your world.
And know the truth of this.
Breathe that sigh, once breathed into you: seeking at-one-ment with the Word from whom all words come, receiving the gift you’ve received already.
And in your at-one-ment, speak new words.
And see your world changed.
Exquisitely blooming into winsomeness.
And everyone in your proximity.
Becoming the creative sourceror from whom you come.
The gift, once received, the gift now given.
Breathe this sigh.
Breathe it earnestly.
For our words create, anyway.
And refined pulchritude is so much better than ugliness.