I’ve tumbled down the rabbit hole. Every time I come home I remember things I’ve forgotten. How it feels to drink in the energy of the fall air. How big tall trees make me feel safe. How good Ledo’s pizza is. How doing things like picking green beans out of the garden makes me slow down, enjoy life. But then something happens that I can’t really put into words but I’ll try anyway.
I remember old self.
It’s easy to feel more like a kid again when you’re back home. A: I’m on vacation. The release of everyday-being-an-adult-with-a-job demands makes me feel lighter. B: My mom is making me good food and my dad is taking me to all my favorite places. C: The little discussed, but widely felt, potential nasty effects of regression. I’m quickly reminded of the ‘little’ me I’ve forgotten.
This is important. This is where I grew up. Where my little artist self was formed. While I’m here old dreams come back to me. My imagination flickers again. Feeling starts creeping back into the numb fingers of my soul. And as these things shake me up in good and bad ways God says, “I’m here. Let’s talk it through.”
My art will be influenced by my past and formed by my ever present God. And I want to be intentional to not forget where I’ve come from, but not hang on so tight that I can’t move boldly into the future. And as I try to walk this mythic line, I’m trusting my always with me God to protect me and guide me. How does your past affect what you do today? Are you trusting God to use your past to positively impact your work?