Giant wall or blank canvas

Transformer Box, Ft. Collins, COWe are all searching
picking up rocks
checking under the car and in the hall closet

Scanning faces
bent in prayer and meditation
reading, researching, ruminating

For that thing.

Foremost on my radar search
is for a next step

I’ve described the way forward as being met with a giant white wall
that spans as far east as it does west
to infinity
and is so slick and high
that it is unscalable – though scuff marks show I’ve tried.

Digging beneath the wall is as futile as climbing above or around it.

But this weekend
while skipping about Wichita with friends
I wondered

As the sun rose in the quiet house and the cat leaped off my nest of covers

I wondered if what was before me was not a wall at all.

What if it is a canvas?

What if it is opportunity rather than barrier?

What if it is just waiting for me to step forward with my nibbled pencils
paints left over from the kids’ elementary school years
collage bits
sparkly things
exacto knives
and earthen bits collected in jars
and create?

To begin?

Completely free of history or future?

Is this one of those “coconuts of wakefulness*” I read about in the Shambhala stupa?

Has this untethering been emancipation
and not abandonment?

Are we truly at our best under prescribed conditions
or do we
thrive under a starry sky of meteors
falling coconuts?

After a few years of crawling forward and relying on the tunnel vision that survival affords
Is this freedom –
this wild high place
of emptiness
empty space
just waiting to be imperfectly filled?

I don’t know.

But I intend to find out.
I’m going to scour for a large easel-sized pad of paper
maybe borrow my old easel back from my framily down the street
and sketch
and collage meaning
into the blank space.

Maybe I am the richest woman in the world
with such people in my life
and untethered opportunity.

I’ve even discovered how freeing this season of “austerity” can be.

Are you facing a great void?

What if it is not a giant wall, but a blank canvas?
How will you treat it?

What will you apply?
Cut away?
Leave alone?

Go forth in all your derring do. Keep us posted on your masterpiece.
We’re listening.

I’m listening
As I consider the canvas before me.

*“In the garden of gentle sanity,
May you be bombarded with coconuts
of wakefulness”

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