Julia Cameron on Blooming Where You're Planted

On July 4, I wrote about not feeling "at home" in my community and compared it to the Parable of the Sower. Listing my questions, doubts and uncertainty, I ended by stating that I would look more into this topic. I read today in Julia Cameron's book, The Sound of Paper, this paragraph:

"It is difficult to commit to living where we are, how we are. It is difficult and it is necessary. In order to make art, we must first make an artful life, a life rich enough and diverse enough to give us fuel. We must strive to see the beauty in where we are planted, even if we are planted somewhere that feels very foreign to our own nature. In New York, I must work to connect to the parts of the city that feed my imagination and bring me a sense of richness and diversity instead of mere overcrowding and sameness. In California, my friend must work to do the same. If we are not willing to work in this way, we become victims. If we become victims, we first become choiceless and then become voiceless. Our art dries up at the root. We must, as the elders advise us, bloom where we are planted. If we later decide that we must be transplanted, that our roots are not in soil rich enough for our spirits, at least we have tried."

Not speaking of the parable, but speaking about how I often feel, these words from Julia encourage me to do what I wrote I must do. Make sure my roots are growing and that I am flourishing to the best of my ability. Seeing God in all things because he certainly is there. I have been blessed with so much. I live in a suburban neighborhood, but when I am in the back garden or sitting on the back porch, it is easy to imagine I am in the country. I am so thankful for that.

Me in my backyard. Photo by Corina S. Alvarezdelugo

The God Who is Everywhere

"While it is true that God is a hidden presence, we have only to let nature speak to us about the God who is everywhere." 

- John Eudes, Abbot of the Genesee, 

as quoted by Henry Nouwen in Discernment

My first thought on reading this was that if this is true, then God is more present in some places than in others. For instance, in areas south - especially Florida and the Caribbean - where the weather is always wonderful, there is always an abundance of green, flowers, animals, birds and insects. What about in areas like here in New England during winter? All is bare or dull. There is wildlife but it can be sparse. What about in Alaska? What about in cities? Especially cities in the north during winter time.

Alaska, though frigid cold and covered in deep snow most of the year,  has a majestic quality that does reflect God. Not having been there in person, photographs and movie footage alone have shown me this. 

God can be found  in the city, but there he is discovered more often through people than in nature. Yet even a dandelion growing in the crack between foundation and sidewalk can point to God.

Winter in New England can teach us about rest and slowing down. A valuable lesson for so many who live by the "New York minute."

God is everywhere and I think that if we love where it is we live, we will find him in everything.