Sometimes, when I feel like I’m not going anywhere … not being creative … that I’m somehow fixed in a defined space, I remember the first time I lay on the ground as a child and imagined the world turning. How as it spun about its axis or hurtled through space I had to dig a little deeper with my fingers to stop from flying off … that crazy tilting cartwheel feeling. I remember then that stillness is an illusion, that we are never motionless … never perfectly still … that we are all moving even if it’s a slow drift on an unseen tide.

%d bloggers like this: