On the other side of terror, nervous energy spins me out of my seat and the best kind of puttering takes over. I start clearing spaces, not in a look-good, feel-perfect kind of way, but in a way that creates a feeling of openness. The kind of clearing that ushers out the not-for-nows and makes space for the cherished and necessary to be easily at hand.
Puttering through and clearing my spaces creates order in my thoughts; taking out the recycling gives a new place to stand, and from that kitchen tile the whole world can look new.
On the other side of terror is deep rest, the kind that cozies up with spy novels and takes afternoon naps under the covers. It is restoration in the presence of good company, playfulness in the presence of children, food that inspires one to chew slowly and savor.
It is a rest that walks away to let the ideas simmer on the back burner for awhile--lid on tight, no stirring. It is the long night giving way to morning revelations that wait patiently on your pillow.
On the other side of terror is doing the work, returning with a spacious mind and rested eyes and that moment of finally seeing how the puzzle pieces fit together. It is a burst of energy, a singleness of focus, and the feeling of elation that only a small victory can bring.
It is the hope that you really will figure it out and pull it off. It is the way your soul soars when something true has it in its grip. It is trust for one more day, letting your heart loose like a kite in the wind. It is taking the next step. It it saying, Yes. Again. And again.
The route and itinerary for our Indie Kindred summer tour are coming together so nicely. I'm confirming dates and venues for the Los Angeles area and Salt Lake City next, so if you're in those areas and would like to attend or host a screening, let me know! (Email: firstname.lastname@example.org)