The revolution of a spiral.

A circle.

The wind-chime sound of movement.

If all we are doing is constantly changing,

who are we to claim authenticity?

What does authenticity resemble

when the self is disassembling daily?

Somewhere in all the motion —

the incomplete decisions, the conflicting inner opinions —

is a small, anchored “I.”

And in that “I” is a watcher,

one who says:

This is who I am today,

but don’t lock it in.

I’m the wind.

The only true reality is:

changing, again.

Do you ever long for a fixed personality?

A reliable self — traits and truths that hold steady, day to day?

Perhaps this is who you are already, and reading this post baffles you.

If so, how fortunate you are.

I have never been the same two days in a row.

I can fall into something with complete passion

follow rabbit holes, chase dreams,

set goals with fire in my bones

and then, suddenly,

turn around and walk away.

Again.

I’ve come to believe this isn’t flakiness or failure.

It’s a form of living truthfully

for the creative soul.

We are not only creating art —

we are recreating ourselves, again and again.

For years, I judged this pattern as wasteful

especially in the short term.

A week goes by. A month. A plan unravels.

It’s easy to say, “Well, that was pointless.”

But over the course of a life,

certain returns start to glow.

The things we come back to

the spirals we trace again and again

these become our wisdom.

This is how we learn.

How we make.

How we begin again.

Clinging to the idea that we must be fixed

to function joyfully is a misbelief.

One that leads, for the creative,

to grief and burnout.

Instead, I’m learning to embrace the fluctuations.

To trust the season I’m in.

To follow the pulse of the day

without fear of contradiction.

Let life unfold

wildly, beautifully,

Steve is on the mend. He has a week off doing anything weight bearing with his foot. Together we are learning – with some hilarious results – what that means. The weather is stunning at the coast and apart from the frigid temperature of the ocean – it doesn’t feel like winter at all.

Because my focus has been elsewhere I haven’t been creating as much and although my manuscript remains within an arms length I can’t seem to finish the last few edits.

These are the fluxes – the waxes and wanes of living a creative life. We can’t expect to be on one season or another at all times – and that is mostly what my SunStack newsletter is about this week. This is a different take on the same theme. The newsletter posted this morning a forward copy can be read here