The Ache of Longing

I've been dancing...and running...and thinking...and dreaming big.  Two days ago, I was doing all four at the same time while on the beach and the strong, sure voice spoke again with a sense of excitement and urgency.  "Create the space and people will come to the beach and dance," it said. And it's not just in a very lovely and sacred space with beautiful hardwood floors and warm-colored walls, but they would come to dance ON THE BEACH!!!

My heart aches to make this kind of dance, this kind of self-expression, this kind of art available to others.  And while I'm dancing on the beach anything seems possible.  Ideas flow easily.  Negativity and resistance disappear and my ego goes with them.   In this place of utter bliss, I am more of the me I want to see in the world.  And then I return from my dance and I struggle.  Reality sets in.  How do I make something this BIG happen?  Where does the money come from?    And then the next moment, I shrug it off because I see signs all around me saying "Yes, yes, yes," but then I waver again and become afraid.  What if I fail?   And fear I feel is changing.  It's no longer the fear of failing because I tried to make this dream of having a community-based movement studio come true, it's the fear of giving up and regreting I never really gave it all I had. 

The longing isn't going away.  It's deepening.  It's burrowing its way into my being.  It's asking me what I'm willing to risk to have what I really want.  I recently read Steven Pressfield's "The War of Art" and in between fits of laughter (he's got us procrastinators pegged!) I tried to let the wisdom of his words sink in.  We each have a calling; something we are inherently gifted to do.  The question to ask ourselves is, "Are we going to answer that call?"   

So as I sit here at 11:11 pm on a Wednesday night feeling the ache of longing, I google it and it doesn't come as a surprise that it's available.   And now the voice whispers, "What are you going to do next?"