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Entries in yellow (2)

Wednesday
Feb152012

Prop Love

Strange ideas come and go. Sequins and felt and needle and thread, so utterly foreign in my hands, occupied them for weeks, only to be forgotten when their intended unveiling rolled around.

This could mean:

This was a bad idea and I am being saved from humiliation.

Those hearts actually have another purpose.

I need to get better about making lists.

Abandoned props notwithstanding, my mind immediately started gathering other random objects. Strangely, I was carting around a yellow chair in the back of the station wagon. A wisp of an idea, wrapped in leather and suitably colorful. I ignored the nagging questions about does this make any sense? and What does it do? and Um, so what? and allowed myself to play, for the sheer silly joy of putting a yellow leather chair in the middle of a snowy bluff and dancing around with a remote shutter release.

I have no answers. Only a million questions and the intention to stop taking myself so damn seriously.

Monday
Nov142011

Bright Spots

I have a confession to make: I stopped consuming news. 

I say this as a former journalism student, a person who had a short-lived journalism career, and someone who has fervently believed for my entire adult life that it is actually my (and all of our) responsibility to know what's going on in our community.  That's the way this whole democracy thing is supposed to work, after all.

But something happened, somewhere between the debt ceiling crisis, the 47th Republican Presidential debate, and the tear-gassing of Occupy Wall Street and I just couldn't take it anymore.  I got this very clear sense that all my efforts to inform myself were making me angry, despairing, and - perhaps worst - dumber.

So I stopped.  Cold turkey, basically.

I am not so willfully ignorant as to be unaware that millions of people are still out of work, the presidential contest is already mind-numbingly cynical a year ahead of the election, and sports gods exploit children while entitled kids riot in the streets in an inconceivable protest.  The amount of bad news out there is chilling.

But here's the thing:  there's a bright spot, and I'm pretty sure it's growing.

I feel like I'm talking to a lot of people lately who are daring to dream out loud, living from their hearts.  A lot of people lately are telling me stories of transformation in their lives, saying that their dreams are coming true.  The more I step onto this new practice of mine, the more I know I am not alone. 

A friend told me this weekend that she's found a way to do potentially groundbreaking scientific research on mothers and newborns outside of the rigid confines of the academic establishment.  That seemed impossible a couple years ago but she's doing it now.  Another friend yesterday told me she's on the verge of scaling up a program she created to take art supplies and art therapy to underprivileged kids around the world.  A series of inspired synchronicities combine with hard work to look like a small miracle.

I hear these things and think Sorry NPR.  I don't need you anymore.  I want to smother the politics and the business-as-usual with a wet blanket.  I want to give all my oxygen to the small sparks of inspired work I see around me.

I'm back to my favorite MLK quote:

Darkness can not drive out darkness; only light can do that.  Hate can not drive out hate; only love can do that.

It gives me a little glimmer of hope, this vision of a small but growing critical mass, lighting the way.