scribblechic

There is a place just outside my comfort zone where resistance challenges my fortitude and creates a burn. Pressure points where my spirit lights with small sparks of passion; attention and energy in action.

I used to think these fires came from something outside myself, kindling in want of chance. I’ve come to wonder if the greater truth is these fires slumber in need of air; if in naming our wants we breathe them into something greater.

When I look back to my most challenging moments, there is a physical-emotional memory to the work of joy.

I remember the tired limbs of long hours juggling multiple jobs in college and the mental exhaustion of dense course materials with a familiar memory of early motherhood. In both experiences I was inexperienced and overwhelmed, my environment and my determination creating a spark that infused dark moments with light.

It was the same passion that informed patience during complicated discoveries and difficult lessons as a parent of children with special needs or loving a spouse with the imperfect experiences of marriage. The work of loving burns through doubt with a simpler certainty.

Smaller, self-imposed challenges create this same energy. An exercise class completely outside my comfort zone, playing artistically or something as simple as a social engagement in an unfamiliar setting all demand a determined discomfort; friction of want.

As I consider living wholeheartedly, I’m thinking of the places in my day where my wants meet resistance and the invitation to struggle. The work of sparking fires in my soul.