There have been several instances where experience took me back to remembering. "I've been here before!" I thought. When rummaging through thoughts, I tend to find that when I'm lost in "doing" and "being" there is a past that whispers, "See? You DO belong here."
Many times we let things go. Desires, passions, dreams. I'm guilty. Probably the worst. We tend to do something for a time, enjoy it, then convince ourselves it's "just not practical". So we move on, try something else, a suggestion from someone who knows better. Deep down we know what we should be doing. And, if we're lucky, those desires smolder and stay warm beneath a mountain of coals.
Suddenly, like the sun between savage snow storms, it dawns, "Wait. This is what I always wanted." And we do, become, sift, and extract a still bright coal. Amazingly, it burns when we fan it, sets paper ablaze when stoked and soon roars to life. We're befuddled. "But it's just ___. It's nothing important."
Says the masses. Says the naysayers. Says the media and marketing and, as Madeleine L'Engle called it, Madison Avenue. But we know. We KNOW. Whatever it is - writing, oil painting, brain surgery, doodling on canvas- we were born to do THIS, NOW.
What are you waiting for?