Are you standing close to shore when your heart is yearning for you to wade in further?
I still find myself doing it sometimes - waiting for someone to come in and tell me how to be. This is especially true in certain aspects of my work in the world. Or, if I’m being honest, it’s really about the scarier aspects. And by scary I simply mean the ones I want more than anything else at this point; the ones with so many fears attached - some conscious, many still yet unconscious.
I get tripped up.
I wade into the water and convince myself that the cooling rush around my ankles would not feel better if I lay back and let the water hold me, lap my ears, and, under the brilliance of a blue sky, take me on a ride of bliss, joy and, surely, growth and learning.
No, I convince myself sometimes, unwitting human that I am, that it's better here near the shore. Yes, the sun is white-hot; my skin cracking from the heat; and the trees are blistering, bark peeling. The water kissing my ankles is fine. Lovely, in fact.
Yes, it's cool and inviting, but I assure myself being near the bank feels more comfortable. Yes, the sands shift, but surely I can lift a waterlogged hem up and run back if it proves too much.
The thing I miss, though, when I stay too close to what feels reasonable, comfortable, is the joy of creation. Of creating something only I can make and for no other reason other than my soul is thirsty for it.
There, the water at my feet only further parches my tongue.
I miss the chance to be buoyed, to rise and fall amongst the waves. To drift, yes—to be pushed by the breeze, certainly. And, also, to one day perhaps wake up somewhere entirely new—a place that is magical, holy and spun out of my own heart's desire.
If I stay, I will have missed feeling free every moment of every day of the voyage.
What about you? Where might you be standing close to shore when your heart is yearning for you to wade in further with your work in the world?