I know the quiet pleasure of lingering where ideas are still untouched and every possibility can pretend it might become something beautiful,
I know the quiet pleasure of gathering one more sign while the work itself waits for me to risk making an imperfect choice,
I know the quiet pleasure of calling my delay perfectionism when some part of me is frightened that the result will reveal my own limitations,
I know the quiet pleasure I’ve been asking myself, how long have I been protecting the possibility because I fear what the finished thing may say with what I can achieve,
I know the quiet pleasure, but the longer I keep every door open, the more I feel my own life standing outside the room…
I have noticed how quickly I can rush toward an ending when the uncertain middle prompts me to remain curious, refined, and excited.
I have noticed how I sometimes choose the first workable answer because exploring another path might undo the certainty I first came in with,
I have noticed that speed can look like confidence even when I have quietly skipped the discoveries that would have much deepened the work,
I have noticed that I’ve been asking myself, what might I discover if I stopped treating detours as evidence that I have again lost my way,
I have noticed that my habits can protect me from one kind of discomfort while leaving another kind to follow me what’s really home for me…
I constantly yearn for the work, to surprise me though I sometimes resent the time it takes to let an unfamiliar idea takes its shape,
I constantly yearn for the work to arrive with certainty, while knowing that certainty can close the window before anything unexpected that is worth exploring again enters,
I constantly yearn for the work, to feel alive but I cannot ask it to breathe if I refuse to leave room for its unruly circumstances,
I constantly yearn for the work, I’m asking myself again, am I exploring because I am genuinely curious or because choosing would make me look accountable,
I constantly yearn for the work, to transcend the safest response I could generate without ever experiencing uncertainty after all rejections I have went through…
I’m learning to borrow patience and the ability to wander when I want to rush past the parts that haven’t made sense yet,
I’m learning to borrow the courage to choose one small direction when every open possibility begins to feel like a private burden,
I’m learning to borrow another way of working without pretending that my old instincts have never helped me survive a difficult beginning,
I’m learning to borrow while asking myself, can I let another rhythm teach me without using it to shame the one I already have,
I’m learning to borrow not a new identity, but the freedom to move beyond the habits, discovering that familiarity can make a pattern feel like nature even when it is only a way of living I have never once questioned…
Watchwords:
Every possibility can pretend,
The uncertain middle asks me,
Detours as evidence that I have lost my way,
Leave room for its unruly beginnings,
Less trapped by the habits I once called my nature,
Here is Tikatarot, who dares you to answer the question, “Who am I?”..
As and will always be reminding you to dream: