Two Weeks


You need not do anything. Remain sitting at your table and listen. You need not even listen, just wait. You need not even wait, just learn to be quiet, still and solitary. And the world will freely offer itself to you unmasked. It has no choice, it will roll in ecstasy at your feet.

(Frank Kafka)

It's been a little over two weeks since landing in Stockholm, and I'm already feeling at home. The short days haven't really gotten to me. All I can say is, it's different, just like the summers, when the days are especially long and bright.

Already, I've been congratulated on arriving in November, coined the worst month in Sweden, because of the rain and clouds that make up the majority of the days. Now that December has arrived, I have the pleasure of experiencing all that comes with Swedish Christmas celebrations. If there's a country with contrast, Sweden would be it. My three months during the spring and summer were vibrating. The brightness. The daylight. The clear blue skies. Now with the clouds hovering low in the sky it brings a whole different energy to the place. And the snow. Well, that hasn't come yet, but I'm sure it's well on it's way.

So what have I been doing? Not anything earth shattering as of yet. Getting settled. Feeling things out. Good thing is, I didn't move here blind. I've already had a good taste, so nothing feels too out of the ordinary. One thing I've learned from all my recent travels is learning the art of adaptability. Not sure if I always get it down, however I've appreciated the importance of getting into a rhythm when in a new place.

Just before leaving for Sweden, I was given a strong sense it's time to enter back into my creativity. Something I've left dormant for quite a while now. I'm still sussing it out. Although, my problem tends to be getting started. I have a world of ideas, but all to often not sure where to take it all. Not sure what actions to take. But also, I've learned sometimes I must be patient. Sometimes it's important to simply ask. Ask a higher power for guidance. For assistance. Ask the place where inspiration is born.

The process of creating was something I inherently felt when young. The space of unmanifested potential where anything and everything is generated. Why does so much of life pull us out of that? The little girl who loved to create, who loved the arts, who loved to dance. Where did she go? I tried the "other" stuff, and well, I have to say, it left me uninspired and dried up. No longer do I desire to follow the path that has already been traveled down. Why not charter new territory? Yeah, sure, I'm in a new country, but I'm talking about that place within myself.

So, I have these questions. I'll sit with it, and see what comes.

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