In Search of Faraway

Georgia O'Keeffe often escaped the reality of her marriage to Alfred Stieglitz -- a man she said was "much more wonderful in his work than as a human being" -- by spending months at a time in the New Mexico desert, a place she called "faraway".

I am fascinated by this woman's history and the paintings that resulted from living a truly authentic life. To know at the age of 12 that she wanted to be an artist, to follow that dream without wavering, to have the courage to let her art evolve far beyond the ordinary -- how does one summon that level of integrity in all areas of life? Where does one find the courage to live beyond the fear, in that mind-set of faraway?

Some would say it is found in the infamous "dark night of the soul." And I think that sometimes that is true. I know I have wandered those shadows myself on occasion and fought my way back into the light, sure that this time I had gotten it right. Wrong. Well, okay, not wrong necessarily, but somehow incomplete and still wanting. I know, I know -- it's a journey, not a destination (screw the McDonald's).

But what if we just started in the light in the first place? We are all born fully programmed and equipped for our individual journeys through life, so how do we so often find ourselves mired in the mud of uncharted detours and dead ends along the way? I think we lose sight of our own reflections, and it starts at birth when we forget we originated from oneness and begin to look for a definition of ourselves "out there" somewhere.

It's been a hell of a year since I last wrote in this blog of my basic need for water in my life -- a year of looking at the past with the eyes of the present, and painfully letting go of people, places, and things in my life I once thought defined and fulfilled me. I expected grief, but experienced only the briefest moments of sadness before the lightness of being that inevitably followed. And what did I find reflected back to me in those moments? Fear, mostly. And a disbelief that things so long considered bedrock could be as easily washed away as any shifting sand.

So. Where am I? Where am I going? Inside. I am going inside: back to my origins, back to my home, my roots, my creation. Will I miss some of you? Well, actually...no. Of course, I will carry you with me always, since the essence of each person and place and event of this lifetime makes up the reality we create. But I no longer need the illusion of certainty and permanence I allowed myself to accept as the reflection of my true self. Distance, like time, is relevant (if you believe it is real) and irrelevant (if you recognize the inherent fallacies).


And if you're wandering a sunny beach someday and think you recognize the woman aging slowly and serenely in the velvet soft warmth of tropical breezes, stop and see if she might just be me. If so, I will welcome you to my home, my studio, my garden, my island -- this place deep inside from which I came and to which I have returned. A place called "faraway".