It was about a month or two ago when I really began longing for Under A Pink Sky and to return to regular blogging. What reminded me was, even after so many years since that first virtual home someone sent me a photo of a pink sky and said how they still always connect them to me. It felt like an anchor to a part of myself that I had forgotten, yet sorely needed, during this time of wild transition and uncertainty in my life. Pink skies are my unwavering faith in beauty, possibility, mystery and a love that runs infinitely deep and true. I just never knew that way back when. I understand this faith so clearly now.
But inside the longing I was getting stuck around how to "brand" the old blog into my newer life, thinking about all the 'shoulds' around creative cohesion and consistency. I finally realized that what I most needed was to just embrace the spark of desire, pure and simple, because it's the thing that is actually real (yes!), not a judgement or a story.
Today I heard the perfect analogy of the 'fly in a bottle' and how we shrink our lives to fit into whatever reality we believe. The fly doesn't actually know its in a bottle, or that it can leave at any time. It just zooms around bumping up against invisible barriers until its perspective eventually shifts by getting knocked around enough to see what's holding it back. It's when we realize that we create our own limitations, we also gain the power to set ourselves free. I finally saw the bottle I had put myself inside of, not just with this blog, but with so many other things in my life too.
Now that I've stepped into this space with you (I am so grateful you are here, and bear with me as the writing cobwebs get cleared away), it has felt like the sweetest homecoming and I'm starting to remember what it used to be like to see the world through a bloggers fresh eyes, camera in hand, not as a marketing strategy or a way to gain exposure or praise but purely as a direct line to joy. Deciding to write and share for no other purpose other than my own creative and expressive impulse is tapping me back in to the energy that drives it all. It is the Source. And and I didn't know I had lost touch with it a little until I could finally see the outline of this bottle last week. So here I am. Flying free until I bump into the edges of my next limiting belief, and the next, and the next, and the next...