How it Starts

Yesterday, I spent the afternoon with a good friend and her kids. While the littlest one napped, my three-year old friend and I found a few things to do. We played Candyland, we read books, but then she got a little antsy. It was time to move.


I started her out on a few yoga poses. First: downward facing dog, then upward facing dog. Her form was amazing, in fact, I was a little jealous, I certainly didn't look like that the first time I did yoga. We finished up some cat and cow tilts and I asked if she wanted to learn another pose.

"I want to do rolling dog," she said.

"How do you do rolling dog?" I asked.

She got down on her hands and knees and rolled quickly across the floor. Next, she showed me her "jumping dog." This is how creativity starts.

First, you read a book or see a painting or hear a piece of music. You copy, you emulate, you try to be like what you see, what is.

Then, slowly, you find your voice, your muse, your way of doing it that is different from everyone else, but still fits in the big picture.

My life is marked by transition right now. I am embarking on new adventures, closing the books on others, being faithful in the things that haven't changed. I'm doing my share of downward and upward facing dogs at the moment, sticking to what I know, to what is established, what works. But I hope, soon, to be able to throw a rolling dog or two into the mix. You just never know what might happen when you bring something new to the table.