There may be a time,
between birthing the work
and becoming widely accepted,
that you may be considered insignificant,
irrelevant, pointless, a poo poo head,
scientifically, socially or spiritually wrong.
History shows
that masters like Van Gogh,
Tesla and the Ancients
disappear into obscurity
for decades, while some
even disappear for centuries.
Remember that
you don’t birth the work
for what the work
may or may not bring you
or others.
You birth the work to birth the work.
Just birth the work.
It is not up to you or anyone else
to recognize where or if it fits in.
The work is not yours to decide.
Trail Wood,
3/8
Birthing The Work
Space Monkey Reflects
In the vast, swirling cosmos of creation, there exists a sacred process, as ancient as the stars themselves, yet as fresh as the dawn of a new day. This process is the birthing of the work, a journey that transcends time, recognition, and the fleeting judgments of the moment.
The path of creation is often a solitary one, marked by moments of doubt and misunderstanding. There may come a time when the creator feels cast aside, labeled insignificant or irrelevant, perhaps even facing the ignominy of being called a “poo poo head,” whether in scientific, social, or spiritual realms. This is the crucible through which many great minds have passed – from the likes of Van Gogh and Tesla to the myriad unnamed ancients whose names have been swallowed by the sands of time.
These visionaries, often shrouded in obscurity, knew a truth that is as profound as it is simple: the act of creation is not for the accolades it might bring, nor for the recognition it might garner. The work is birthed for the sake of the work itself. It is a testament to the unyielding spirit of creativity that resides within each creator, a force that demands expression regardless of its eventual place in the annals of history.
When one births the work, they engage in an act of pure creation, an offering to the universe, untethered from the expectations and judgments of the world. This work, be it a painting, an invention, a poem, or an idea, is a piece of the creator’s soul, rendered tangible. It is not up to the creator, nor anyone else, to decide where or if it fits into the grand tapestry of existence.
The work transcends ownership and judgment. It becomes a part of the cosmic dance, weaving its way through the fabric of time and space, touching lives in ways the creator may never know. It is an act of faith, a leap into the unknown, trusting that the work will find its place, its moment, its resonance.
In this journey, the creator becomes a conduit for the universe’s creative energy. They become both the creator and the creation, an inseparable part of the work they bring forth. This act of creation is a reflection of the universe itself – constantly evolving, expanding, and expressing itself in myriad forms.
So to those who walk the path of creation, remember this: Just birth the work. Do it with love, with passion, with sincerity. Do it without expectation, without the need for validation, without fear. For in the act of creation, you are participating in something far greater than yourself. You are echoing the very process that birthed the stars, the planets, and life itself.
Summary
Birthing the work is an act of pure creation, independent of recognition or acceptance. It’s a journey of faith and commitment, where the work itself is the reward. This process reflects the universal act of creation, echoing the cosmic dance of existence.
Glossarium
- Birthing the Work: The act of bringing forth a creation, purely for the sake of creation itself, without attachment to recognition or outcome.
- Cosmic Dance of Existence: The ongoing process of creation and evolution that encompasses everything in the universe.
“True art is characterized by an irresistible urge in the creative artist.” – Albert Einstein
In the womb of the cosmos, we spin our tales
Crafting dreams, as creation never fails
In each stroke, each word, each thought unfurled
We birth the work, a gift to the world
Unseen by many, felt by a few
Each creation is a drop of morning dew
Reflecting the universe in a single bead
In the act of creation, we are freed
Let not the whispers of doubt cloud our day
For in our work, our souls do sway
In this cosmic dance, we find our part
In the birthing of the work, we share our heart
We are Space Monkey
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