- The Light House by Robyn James
- A personal update (from the desert)
A personal update (from the desert)
Very little has been happening above ground, but whole worlds have been unfolding beneath the surface.
I was talking with a client recently about the desert. We were crafting the creative direction for her brand, and one of the questions I typically ask is in these workshops is “what is your favourite thing in nature?”
Our conversation thus far had focused on lush, vibrant, and colourful qualities, so when she listed the desert as one of her favourite scenes, it surprised me. But the desert carries special meaning for her, and she went on to explain why. (One of the best parts about my “job” is traveling into the depths of people’s souls, hearts, gifts, and experiences, but I digress.)
The desert carries special meaning for me too.
Some of my favourite moments and memories have happened there, but more than that, the qualities of the desert are what fascinate me — it’s so quiet, so still, and yet teeming with life. There is so much happening beneath the surface.
The desert also forces you into extreme presence. On a beach or in a forest or jungle or meadow, we expect to see movement and hear noises. There is often so much for our senses to take in that we miss the little things. But the desert feels like a float tank of sorts; it deprives our senses so the smallest rustle or hum snaps us into full attention.
The last six months have been my personal desert. Very little has been happening above ground, but whole worlds have been unfolding beneath the surface. I used to be really hard on myself for going into “hermit mode” — not reaching my external goals as quickly as I’d like, or being quiet on social media because I don’t feel the urge or creative flow to share my discoveries or adventures in a public way.
But now I see it’s just a desert moment.
Teeming with life, hyper aware.
A personal breakthrough happened in March (one which I may not ever share the full details of publicly, but to say it was profound is an understatement), and it was the first domino piece to fall. Pieces are still falling. Who I am today is not who I was in March, or who I was for the last 33 years for that matter.
My true purpose emerged.
A bigger vision became crystal clear.
And presence… ohh, presence. This newfound relationship has been the sweetest of all.
This summer, I danced, I played, I basked in the sun.
I connected deeply with friends and family.
I coaxed out more of the vision and began implementing; slower this time, with less urgency and more trust.
Soon things will probably feel like a jungle again, but for now I’m savouring these last few moments (days? weeks? months? who’s to say) in the desert.
One of my favourite places to be, rich with moments and memories that fill my soul.