The Painter’s Pallet
As I explore my spiritual path I am sometimes frustrated by the disarray or lack of sequential structure there is to my experiences. I have started to do and look into so many different things! This is a blessing and can be a curse. Things left half done is what my life can appear to be to me. I have recently found a solution to this. That is to spend some time several times a day reviewing all the things that I’ve been involved in and then select from them the most interesting and appealing to be involved in now. It must be something I enjoy or screw it.
So I kind of picture me standing in front of the canvas that is my life right now and I am the artist selecting the color I want to add to the canvas from my pallet. I am cocreating my reality moment by moment and to step back every so often to be aware of the myriad of choices I have as to what color I want to transfer from my abundant pallet to my canvas of infinite possibilities.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Monday, January 4, 2010
From dreams
IN THE DREAM:
I'm viewing a scene over a medicine wheel on the high desert. Very sparse just a lone tree and vague plants in the distance.
From the upper right quadrant a being floats in sort of zig zag and lands in the medicine wheel. He's middle aged Mongolian with plain modern Native American/western looking clothes plain cowboy hat trimmed mustache. He speaks clearly if a little quickly without any kind of accent in a matter of fact fashion.
"Thank you for letting me come in. I am the creative bird."
END OF DREAM
I awoke to this dream not too long ago. I have since tried to be open to the idea that there is some value in my being open to creative thinking and the possibility that it may be helpful to others somehow. After all I have lived an iinteresting life and have learned many lessons that may help otheres. There is so much to learn and so much bulls#*T to distract us from consciousness. Are we here just to compete for the shiniest things at the expense of others? I doubt it don't you?
I'm viewing a scene over a medicine wheel on the high desert. Very sparse just a lone tree and vague plants in the distance.
From the upper right quadrant a being floats in sort of zig zag and lands in the medicine wheel. He's middle aged Mongolian with plain modern Native American/western looking clothes plain cowboy hat trimmed mustache. He speaks clearly if a little quickly without any kind of accent in a matter of fact fashion.
"Thank you for letting me come in. I am the creative bird."
END OF DREAM
I awoke to this dream not too long ago. I have since tried to be open to the idea that there is some value in my being open to creative thinking and the possibility that it may be helpful to others somehow. After all I have lived an iinteresting life and have learned many lessons that may help otheres. There is so much to learn and so much bulls#*T to distract us from consciousness. Are we here just to compete for the shiniest things at the expense of others? I doubt it don't you?
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