You must have a room, or a certain hour or so a day, where you don’t know what was in the newspapers that morning, you don’t know who your friends are, you don’t know what you owe anybody, you don’t know what anybody owes to you. This is a place where you can simply experience and bring forth what you are and what you might be. This is the place of creative incubation. At first you may find that nothing happens there. But if you have a sacred place and use it, something eventually will happen.*
We’re always connected,
To work, to the world, to endless streams of stories.
Where is the place or time to disconnect
so that we might connect with ourselves
in silence and solitude?
A place and a time is best of all,
but where this is difficult, one or the other is more than enough.
If we find this too difficult or unpleasant a thought we must ask ourselves why.
The place of purpose is an infinite thing,
meant to be enjoined playfully,
Towards a revivification of imagination,
A sensorium of Soul through the fullness of our days:
An aged man is but a paltry thing,
A tattered coat upon a stick, unless
Soul clap its hands and sing and louder sing
For every tatter in its mortal dress.**
It is something urgent,
Whether we have our place and time,
Or simply a place or a time.
Reconnecting with our purpose –
Or passion or calling or vocation or element or bliss –
There are many names:
Where is your bliss station? You have to try to find it.^
*Quoted in Austin Kleon’s blog: The bliss station;
**William Butler Yeats, quoted in Stephen Gilligan and Robert Dilts’ The Hero’s Journey;
^Joseph Campbell, quoted in Austin Kleon’s blog: The bliss station.