Some advice I’m heeding that’s meeting me so beautifully right now: “Don’t worry about making what you’re doing about something.”
Don’t give it a title, or category, or place in the Universe.
I’ve had near countless periods of reverie — of freedom and seeing and opening (of various depths) — and then felt the container of “Liam Bowler is now doing this thing …” close in, like walls, secure and suffocating both.
I still, probably of course, feel that impulse to contract around a wonderful idea. The feeling is just wanting to make sure it has legs. (It’s a beautiful impulse, actually.)
Yet, a river does not have legs, and somehow it moves beautifully.