Home Is This Way, Sailor

Lovelies,

Two times in my life I recognized a calling.

The first was when I wrote my first song. I thought, "This is what I do." The second was when I first gave a songwriter feedback on a song-in-progress. I thought, "I didn't know callings happened more than once in a lifetime!"

Stephen Cope talks about the small, still voice that, if we're super quiet, guides us throughout our lives. I love and connect to this concept. But I'll say, recognizing these two callings felt less small and still and more like the blinding flash of a lighthouse: "Home is this way, sailor!"

The first weeks of 2024 have clarified for me that I've now got a third calling at play. This one arrived not small and still OR lighthouse flashy. Rather it feels like something I've long known but forgot to notice. Actually, you gentle readers have probably noticed it too.

I'm obsessed with creativity.

OF COURSE this means songs. But more and more, music feels arbitrary. A perfect but circumstantial dance partner. Behind the veil of music is what ACTUALLY moves me: the alchemy of nothing into something. Of idea into form. Of experience into meaning. Of divine into incarnate. I capital L LOVE a song, but also I get the same hit from the shocking line break of a poem. Or the risky cut of a dress. Or the inspired choreography of a yoga class. I cry my head off at movies, not because I'm feeling for the characters, but because I'm so excited the director made those choices.

I think our callings are our life's work. Ever present in our soul's code. But I also love that they only make themselves available to us when they are good and ready.

I wouldn't have known what to do with this creativity calling twenty years ago. But now I can't wait to begin.

All my love,

Rachel

P.S. Don't be fooled! I don't know more than two things about playing guitar. But this guitar has some personal significance to me, so she gets a photo op.

P.P.S. Happy Valentine's Day love bugs.