It’s the thing I do when I don’t know what to do.
Even writing down “I don’t know what to do” opens up a gate, a portal to the next thing, the next thought, the next burst of creative energy.
Is it an invitation? To put words down on paper? Is it a conversation with Help? Is Help listening? Ferociously taking notes? Are our words it’s marching orders to assemble what’s needed? To support us in our unfolding? To meet us in the mess and mystery?