“As you make art or write, the process is a container for awareness. Everything that rises up—judgments, blocks, insights—is a reflection of the whole of your life.” Christine Valters Paintner in The Artist’s Rule

I sat in the corner of my kitchen yesterday morning and spent the early hour reading, meditating, and responding. I was asked, by the written words found in The Artist’s Rule, to consider what it is that even draws me to this book—this twelve-week journey of “nurturing your creative soul with monastic wisdom.”

My answer came easily: It’s the contemplations of a soul both finding its voice and hearing A Voice all in the same brushstroke.

Those brushstrokes heal me. I am, at heart, an artist. I have paintings and songs and writings that hold my tears and, at times, have held my prayers.

Oh but not now. The deep-down part of me is silent, waiting. This prayerlessness has led to a homesickness. So I pick up this book because it speaks to my homesick-soul and I hope it will bring me back to those places I’ve long forgotten, where His presence was so real I could feel it on my shoulders.

I didn’t feel it on my shoulders yesterday morning, but I felt something lift during that early hour: Lightness. Slow dawn. Feet on familiar path.

Pilgrimage.