I've been running from responsibility, hoping that someone else could do my life's work for me.  I've been putting up a good front, like a bird trying to convince the world that it isn't prey.  I do it well. But if you look closely, you can see that I'm vulnerable.
I think this is true for everybody, by the way.  Is there anybody out there who isn't a total mess?  We are doing the best we can, surviving from day to day, and making the most of every moment we have.
When I was in Moab a couple of weeks ago, I stayed in a lovely place, which I shared with other folkies. I walked everywhere I went, sang when I wanted to, talked with friends in cafes, and received instruction from people I respect.  The sense of community, friendliness, tidiness, and peace of the situation all had a profound effect on me.  It was a week spent in...near perfection.  While there, I felt felt such a palpable swelling of love in my chest that I thought I would burst. It hit me many times, and I felt like I was staggering.  I assumed that it was the feeling of something missing.
I listened in on a songwriting workshop, where the group was asked to think on the term "wabi sabi."  This is the name of the thrift store in Moab (my favorite).  But it describes a concept of embracing the imperfect.  Wabi sabi is the old wagon wheel you use to decorate your front yard.  It is the antique dessert mold that you proudly hang on the wall in your kitchen, even though it hasn't molded a dessert since your Granny's days.  It is the gap between your front teeth, that you could get fixed, but it would somehow make you less interesting if you did.  It is my 1920's "frankencottage," tacked together by many hands over the years, but charming in its own way.
I have felt overwhelmed by all the imperfection around me, and the fact that I can't even begin fix it.  There isn't time or energy to do so.  I have run from it.  What if I ran towards it instead?
I am wabi sabi.