Finding feathers

I’m in the garden. I find myself turning right and looking down. I see a feather in the grass. At this moment a question comes: are you willing to be moved through life?

A day or two earlier I had been laughing with a friend about my talent for finding feathers. I explained that the trick was not looking. It requires a suspension of thinking, a willingness to move through the landscape, not thinking about where you’re going but, rather, going where you feel pulled.

Something in you is feeling for feathers. It is scanning, sensing, divining feathers like water. You cannot think your way to feathers. Some part of you, in concert with the feather, conspires to put you in the way of it. You are moved to it.

What does it mean, to be moved through life? 

The less I determine its direction, the richer my life feels. The less control I exert, the more freedom I feel. The less effort I put in to producing results, the more things happen. The less force I use, the more power I have.

In my writing, and in my explorations into a creative life, I feel that energy and creativity wants to move through us. What if energy not only moves through us? What if we are moved through life by it?