Snippets, Sparks, Containers

As of late, I've been experiencing a great deal of inspirational sparks and creative snippets, but I've been struggling with maintaining those flashes. They have been dissipating into the crazy ether of my vata energy.  So much so, that I have not even made it to the blog in a few weeks.  I experience these great moments of inspiration and it's like I have no idea what to do with them.  I feel overwhelmed and excited and ready to sit down and let it all pour out, but then all my focus disperses and I become agitated and unable to even sit still.  I just want to move, or worse, I want to shut it all down with some great numbing activities.  It is becoming clear to me that I need to learn how to contain these sparks and snippets without numbing and drowning them out into nothingness.

Containers

Methuselah

I know what I need is a container.  When I explained how I was feeling to a fellow yogi, she asked me what that container might look like. I was blank.  That is part of my problem.  I have no idea what my container would look like.  Nor what it might feel like.  Nothing. The idea of containers agitates me further.  Yet, I know I need to sit down and think about it.  So here I am.  What does it look like? It would have to be a strong, yet porous container.  Things would need to be able to enter and leave when it was time.  Like much of what I teach about social structures, they need to be solid, long-lasting, firm, yet for that to happen, they must be flexible. My container must be able to sway in the wind.  Yet, it must be something I can hold onto when I feel my internal winds picking up.  The image of the redwood keeps returning for me.  It is a flexible structure.  Methuselah.  An 1800 year old tree. She has survived the elements because she is strong, yet able to take in her surroundings and thrive. She has the ability to expand into the elements even as she protects herself from the harsher aspects of nature.  That is what I want my container to do.

Buildings and bridges
are made to bend in the wind
to withstand the world,
that's what it takes
--Ani DiFranco, "Buildings and Bridges"

Interestingly enough, I'm building a container for my yard.  It didn't fully hit me how the metaphor of the container was working in a very tangible way for me until now. This container will enable me to plant and grow things in a yard that is filled with an extensive root system that limits growth and my ability to find depth. The large trees behind my yard have grown and expanded into my yard.  I refuse to cut the roots and am set on working with the reality of my yard. Matt and I built this container and it wasn't easy. It's not easy to work with and around what nature (life) hands us.  But that is life. This labor of love is very much like the metaphorical container I envision for myself--my creative sparks and energetic snippets. I had not connected the dots between this container and the one I've been struggling to envision within myself. But just now, right here, writing this entry, it has crystallized with a sharp and focused clarity. This container is my container--both in the tangible wood that defines the boundaries of the dirt that will fill it, and in the metaphorical sphere of my internal life. It's not easy to build a container for a life that is filled with ether, randomness, chaos.  The tangible garden container had to be cut in a way that allowed the roots to not throw off the balance of the container and the roots.  The container is by no means linear or perfectly straight.  It had to propped up with small boards in some places and there are some gaps in other places.  Imperfect.  Perfect.  My metaphorical container needs to be similarly developed.  To be open, yet boundaried.  To hold, yet know when to give in to the extensive root system that is my heart and tricky self that often emerges and escapes before I have a chance to know it was alive within me.  I don't want to trap it, I want to capture it for a moment.  Have a chance to hold it and understand it before I let it loose in my world. Like the plants I want to grow in my garden container, I want my sparks and snippets to have their own space to develop, yet connect to the ground below, mingling with the life of those roots and rhizomes beneath the surface.  I want them to have the space to grow and develop on their own and then find their way down deeper.  Then I want to see them draw up and out into the world. To bloom.  To release.  To disperse.  To bask in the sunshine.  That is my internal container.  Although I'm still not sure what it looks like, I am clear now on what it needs to do.  I am clearer about how a container is not to confine but to provide intentional and meaningful space for my best self to create, develop, emerge, love, find joy, and thrive in a world full of roots and rhizomes that I can't control.  It starting to feel more like a step toward freedom rather than a trap.

we get a little further from perfection

each year on the road

I guess that's what they call character

I guess that's just the way it goes

better to be dusty than polished

like some store window mannequin

why don't you touch me where I'm rusty

let me stain your hands...

...let's show them how it's done

let's do it all imperfectly

--Ani DiFranco, "Imperfectly"