The Artist's Way

Snowflakes, of course, are the ultimate exercise in sheer
creative glee. No two alike. This creator looks suspiciously
like someone who just might send us support for our
creative ventures.
“We have a new employer,” the Big Book of Alcoholics
Anonymous promises recovering alcoholics. “If we take
care of God’s business he will take care of ours.” To
battered AA newcomers, such thinking is a lifeline.
Desperate for a way to achieve sobriety, they cling to this
thought when worried about their own precarious abilities to
live effectively. Expecting divine help, they tend to receive
it. Tangled lives smooth out; tangled relationships gain
sanity and sweetness.
To those less desperate, such assurances sound foolish,
even deceptive, like we’re being conned. The God who has
a job for us? The God who has fulfilling work? The God
who holds abundance and dignity, who holds a million
possibilities, the keys to every door? This God can sound
suspiciously like a flimflam man.
And so, when it comes time for us to choose between a
cherished dream and a lousy current drudgery, we often
choose to ignore the dream and blame our continued misery
on God. We act like it’s God’s fault we didn’t go to Europe,
take that painting class, go on that photo shoot. In truth, we,
not God, have decided not to go. We have tried to be
sensible—as though we have any proof at all that God is
sensible—rather than see if the universe might not have
supported some healthy extravagance.