Sunday, February 22, 2015
“If people knew how hard I had to work to gain my mastery, it wouldn’t seem so masterful at all.” – Michelangelo
If Michelangelo said that, what about the rest of us? How hard must we work to achieve anything?
I know, I know: practice, passion and persistence.
If only I'd practiced the piano and the guitar more when I was a kid, if only I'd taken art and drawing more seriously in college, if only I'd had the guts to take creative writing instead of appreciation classes, what then? If only I'd been more courageous, mature and wise enough to listen to my authentic self and not so worried about getting a job and living a comfy life. What then?
I have no idea. I do know that now, so many decades later, when I play music or compose, blog, write poems or short stories, take and post photos or share what I am learning about, it is done with passion.
Luckily, I stumbled into a living which allows me the freedom to use my interests in many different ways and hopefully every once in awhile, a student will recognize a spark which will lead her to her own desires and to her true self.
I'm at a stage that in order to show myself some compassion, I let go of expectations but I do make myself do something, anything, because of passion.
My new motto is:
Doing something is better than nothing.
Nike says "Just do it!"
I say: Do something!
So, I dabble in a lot of spheres. The way I see it, I'm curious and naïve enough to think that I can and should try my hand at different things. However, I realize that if I wanted to edge my way towards mastery, it would take me many lifetimes.
I admire people who have achieved great things by being single-minded and focused long enough to actually get somewhere. Anywhere.
Perhaps my somewhere is to light candles In others. If so, dabbling is exactly what I should be doing in order to ignite as many fires as possible.
May we all be listen to our hearts and set the world ablaze with passion and compassion!
Posted by Queenbeabea at 3:19 PM
Sunday, February 15, 2015
In my lover’s house
In my lover’s house
Every wall stands at an angle
Ready to sway to the beat of
The air smells of Irish Spring
Mixed with basil
It welcomes me to another tryst
Preceded by literary talk
Debates over blues’ masters
Or Scottish airs
Bread and olives
And a bottle of Chianti
Consumed on the dock
Under the setting sun
Followed by a slow
Back up the hill
Posted by Queenbeabea at 8:03 PM