Distracted from my task at hand, thoughts swirl over each other like spaghetti. Do you have days like this? Why? What do you do to combat this feeling? Many times, I give in. I don’t feel like fighting it.
Usually, it is extremely frustrating to be distracted. But this time, it was a prompt to tell me I am missing something. Thankful for awareness, I realize days like these are a sign. No more believing that I’m awful; that I’m incompetent or that something is terribly wrong with me. No, distracted days are now an indication to fill the well, gulping spirit water for my thirsty soul. Currently, the water I choose to drink is full of art. He uses it to breathe life into my deadened parts.
I went for a run the other day. Wind breezing through loose tendrils of hair, sunlight beaming down like a spotlight, and precious air filling my lungs, I studied His creation. As my body tired and longed to quit, clustering birds called out. Beholding the dreamy blue sky, I saw my spirit soaring. Something said to me, “Your dreams are like those birds in the air. Keep your eyes on them, discard peripheral vision, and never give up.” My legs grew stronger, arms propelling momentum as a second wind powered through my frame. How was I so tired a minute ago and then firing my way up the last incline? Spirit food. Dreams. Aspirations. Nature. God. Love. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but I know the sense well now.
That run reminded me what I already knew but needed to experience again. It’s easy to forget truth when we stop experiencing it. We must figure out the ways we are spoken to authentically…to the core. For me, becoming lost in nature, in working my body, in writing, gazing at beauty, in acting, in meaningful conversation—speaks to me. Patching up my broken, numb places these pieces of life are my art.