Anatomy of Flow
There was a feeling of new energy throughout the house. She felt a quick rush of excitement, as if about to open a gift. The expectation of today's new moon reminded her of childhood, not her own, but her nieces' childhood. The awe, the joy, the wonder of discovery and of experiencing the world for the first time. The ohs and ahs, the giggles, the delightful sighs, the opening of the eyes and the eyebrows raising as if to take it all in with just one breath. Words could not capture the delight. But she was so thankful to have had the honor to witness how childhood proves the world is full of magic. The magic in seeing a butterfly, a flower, a bee, or even a plane for the first time! She must have been the same in her own childhood. But who was she kidding; she had the same reactions as if she was still a child. Her nieces came into the world to remind her of that. The expectation of the new moon made her giddy.
While the day had been planned to be full with errands and preparation for her first hosted family game night, the thought was overpowered by the present moment. She thanked her body for waking up early to give her a full three hours to herself.
She knew that the new moon was supposed to be about setting new intentions. Yet once again, she found herself at odds with both the world's definitions and the pull of her internal rhythm.
She felt energized enough to work from her studio. And as she stepped out of bed, both feet planted on the carpet, she mused about the day before, the last day of the Waning Crescent Moon.
After weeks of working from her bed or the couch in the living room, the last day of the Waning Crescent Moon pulled her into the studio. The strong flashes and visions of the specific seeds that were about to crack through the soil to see the light of day were hypnotizing. She barely felt the slight chill of the room; instead, she felt the force that pushed her bottom right into the cozy chair near the window. Extending her right arm, she grabbed the journal that had been quietly waiting for her on the grey rolling art cart. The first words that poured out in cursive were: "keep this only for yourself." The reminder was a warning that to expose incubated seeds to the light would kill them. She continued to write in cursive to match the pace at which she was receiving the visions of the new.
While yesterday’s visions were safely incubated in the pages of her journal, today, the day of the New Moon, her appetite turned toward the blueprint of a new endeavor. And she allowed herself to dive-in head first.
And this is how it happens!
It was foolish to think that she can control the uncontrollable.
On this new moon, her studio chair and table called to her. The illustration called to her. All of them saying, "Finally! You are ready to work without resistance."
After three full beautiful hours of illustration work, the thoughts of the errands and preparations of the day were already sneaking in.
She was happy, no longer questioning why instead of sitting down to set intentions, she sat down to illustrate.
She shut down and closed her laptop, ready for "the in-between hours to begin."