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Soul Alchemy

Passion and the Uniqueness of You

Passion and the Uniqueness of You

​​​​​​​She ran up the stairs, two at a time, to the small table in the corner of her bedroom. The tabletop was a now a spatter of colors – cerulean, jade, magenta. She opened an old leather briefcase filled with paint tubes and brushes. As she sat, she drank in the sharp smell of turpentine, the linseed of the paints, the cottony linen of the canvas, and smiled. She was home. Time melted away, and her heart began to flutter with love. She looked at the blank canvas, closed her eyes, and her hand began to dream on the paper.

The Brilliance of Uncertainty

The Brilliance of Uncertainty

She sat down at the small table she’d placed in front of her bedroom window. The room itself was tiny, barely enough room to stand and walk around now that she’d brought the table up from the basement. The chair was still dusty in spots, the wicker backing was fraying, and it looked tired next to the small table; but the view out the window was vast.

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Surprises on the Page

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Surprises on the Page

It was midday, and there were only a few cars in the park. I stepped onto the trail, and soon the path became overgrown. Plants brushed my ankles. My thoughts flitted, jumped. Chiggers, poison ivy, heat cramps. Does the GPS on my phone work out here?

The bridge over the marsh dipped, and dragonflies floated across the water.

As my mind rattled on through these thoughts, my soul-self waited patiently to settle into a quieter state among the trees.

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Befriending Fear

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Befriending Fear

“How are you?" I call tentatively.

 The room is dark. A single bulb hangs from the ceiling. I reach my hand out, waving it in the dark till it touches the string; and I pull. The click frightens us both in the silence. I see cobwebs hanging from the rafters. The light is weak against the thick gloom gathered in the corners, but it's there. A small circle of yellow on the dirt floor.

Sometimes when we move toward what our souls are longing for, we get afraid. Afraid of what others will think. Afraid of failing. Afraid that there isn’t really a way to make what we long to do happen.  

Finding Home in Yourself

Finding Home in Yourself

When I was younger, just out of college, I loved the adventure of moving. I can still remember driving to my first apartment after I graduated. The skyscrapers in downtown Minneapolis rose out of the morning mist as we crested a hill south of the city. I was in the car with my mom; my suitcase, bedding, and a box fan were in the back of the pickup truck.  

Things seemed fresh with possibility, dewy with newness.