Spring came sopping in. The water pools on the top of our garage, forming slow and lanky shapes alive only in this brief watery world.
It bubbles, tiny drops each crash into the cement, a capture of the soul before flight. The moment before the next moment. There are a hundreds of bubbles across a dozen pools. I want to watch them all.
This is how I felt these first few months that have transformed, alive for a moment, the timing and temperature and placement of everything just right.
We signed the lease for the Bamboo move and did everything in two very quick months, all construction, all purchasing, all weekends with friends and family stepping in to meet an unrealistic deadline. We hung the decor, added the custom woodwork to the walls, and somehow finished just before the first of the year. We set our equipment down on new year’s eve, went to dinner, and called it complete. It was a tremendous amount of work on a shoe-string budget in a short time.
Now months later we are full and looking at adding one more floor. Then, what will be next? Other spaces. Other cities. Other communities. Other products. Other people. But those days in this first space, everyone coming together to make something happen, will be a special pool of memory.
No matter how long it takes you to grow, you will get to where you need to be. You will not forget the journey. That is what I want to tell myself.
One evening alone in bed with rain in the background and the sound up high from the podcast. A discussion on the east and west, Daoism, to sit back and know it will all be alright. That it will all happen on its own due course. To stand up and know it will only happen if you steer the way. I need a balance of views. If a creator does not constantly push forward their idea or belief, then what is needed for it will not appear. But a creator must also keep faith, almost a blind faith, or one will easily get lost and washed away.
I often fail to enjoy the moments along the way. I stay focused on what’s next, the next steps, the next place I want to be. I want to be inside the physical place of my full vision. I want to be there, even when I am already in a beautiful phase of it.
What is a full picture without a present moment to view it from?
Sitting at a table to candlelight, writing. Standing for a moment in a garage most see as dirty, run-down, watching bubbles come up from the ground.