This week, the 52 Lists Project asks, "What do you want to make?"
As I've ruminated on this question over the past few days, I keep finding myself returning to this hymn, one I learned through my days as an active Unitarian Universalist.
But this song, while comforting, is not inspiring. I find the image of building a land where justice shall roll down like water to be daunting and overwhelming. I don't want to be responsible for even a part of this.
It would be easier to take a superficial approach to the question, and create list of things I want to make, things like:
1. A comfortable and comforting patio for my husband, and our family and friends to gather
2. An inspiring garden
3. A magical fairy garden that extends through the woods
4. Delicious cakes and desserts that delight my friends and family
5. Blah blah blah.
But, I'm not interested in or motivated by stuff. I'm interested in peace and justice and adventure and love. And quiet. And love. And love.
Fear is getting in my way. I'm afraid that declaring that I want to create something this big, this intangible, will have me on the hook to be in it to win it, for the rest of my life. Which means I can never take a break, or else I'll be deemed uncommitted to the cause. I'm afraid that declaring that I want to create something this big, this intangible, will render my entire life a failure if I can't achieve - or at least catalyze - something phenomenal before I leave this earth.
I need to power through my fear.
- I need to remember I am not alone in this desire to build a peaceful, loving, and just society.
- I need to develop strategies for keeping my eyes on the prize, without losing the core parts of my being in the process.
- I need to find a community where I can be myself, and contribute what I can without the expectation that I'll do more than is possible.
- I need to decide where to start, and just do it. The hardest part of any task is simply getting started.
I need to breathe.
