When There Are Too Many [Good] Choices
I used to be subscribed to a lot of healing-through-food blogs. I learned a lot about nutrition. I came to understand that the quality of what goes into my mouth was important, but more than the quality, the substance needed to be associated with something lacking. I could be drinking a steady diet of green smoothies in the name of health, but all the while damaging my thyroid because of its specific needs. I learned there was a reason I hated green smoothies: while they might be excellent for someone else’s health needs, they were not good for me. I needed to discover my specific deficiencies, and find a program tailor-fit to those needs.
Achievement Acquired: Listen To Your Body. There are a lot of foods that are good and are labeled healthy, but they must be chosen and consumed with attention and care.
What if it works like this in heart/mind/soul sustenance?
What do I read? To what do I give my limited attention? What should I choose to write about? There are so many choices and there are so many good things out there. I do not have time for all this goodness. So where will I focus?
I think the answer has to do with hunger. What if I followed my hunger? Instead of writing out of duty to my claim to be a writer, (which is a defense of my reputation and therefore, ego-driven,) what if I follow the songs and stories that are calling out to me? The Spirit is always moving, if I have the ears to listen and the heart to receive.
What do I write about? What am I hungry for? I’m not talking about food cravings, but about that thing for which my inmost being cries out. Last month, it was stability. I sought to define it, and in my search, came to a better and more intimate acquaintance with the practice. In short, I grew! I could have plugged in to any number of great subjects, but the productivity of writing alone would not have filled the hunger inside. It would not have nourished me.
I grew, because I sought after the soul food necessary for sustenance of faith and calling. I grew, because I consumed with purpose; I cultivated with purpose.
I am hungry for specific things. My soul feels a lack, and perhaps that very lack is my direction of focus, both in reading and writing. Maybe it's really that simple. What do you think?