Vision Quest: Sorting Treasures

treasuresThis week is a ironically amusing week to delve into the intention of finding and noticing treasure in my life. I am sorting and packing in preparation for moving - hence my chuckles as I write this. What is treasure?

The sorting process is an opportunity to ask myself this question. What makes one thing meaningful and not the next? Is it a special something that catches my heart or eye? A color, a shimmer, a texture, a memory? Why will I pause and look more deeply at what I am holding?

Recognition.

This sense of recognition is entirely mysterious. I never quite know when it will tug at me asking me to look closer, to touch, to engage. But I do know it is about connection - the treasure I am holding or touching has a connection to me. It may be pleasurable or sorrowful. It may be as light as a feather or demanding as a hungry cat at 5:30 in the morning.

Which means I ask via the connection what to do with this treasure. Go or stay? Which of course makes it more difficult to sort out the things my practical side says I don’t need anymore!

Take seashells for example. If you’ve ever been to my studio, you know that most every surface has a shell on it somewhere. I swear they proliferate when I’m not watching. I most certainly can’t simply toss them - they are gems of beauty and they belong to Grandmother Ocean!

I keep telling myself I will return them, but that hasn’t happened yet. It will. It just isn’t time yet. However, timing is a topic for a different blog post then this one.

So I sift, filter, muse, categorize, make piles. Surely some of these treasures need new homes? Maybe. No. Yes. I find that when I stay in the moment I receive answers that feel more solid and that I am happy with.

My studio is also home to many stones and minerals. Given the disrespect in how many of these stones were mined, I am conscious of treating them as the sacred beings they are.  So, I ask: do any of you want new homes? My practical side is hopeful the mineral samples will want a nice school to move to. The stones have other ideas and send back a resounding no.

So what really is a treasure?

Something that has exchanged energy with me? Something that is glittery and sparkly? Something that I have a responsibility for?

Does it have form and substance? Does it bring memories back to me? Does it have a connection to me?

I don't know, but I know I will recognize it when I see it.

ArticlesAnnette Wagner