Daily writing is a spiritual practice. It invites me to poise in a sweet spot of listening. To silence my inner monologue long enough to discover a story camouflaged within the meanderings of the previous day, is like the lemon sorbet that clears my palate between courses. 

 

Being driven often implies a person whose agenda is fierce. There is no gap among tasks, no breath to offer a reprieve from achievement. Yet the word can also instill an image of acceptance, as in being the passenger. My children and yours spent decades in the back seat, being ferried from dance class to the library. At first they were fine with an absence of agency, arriving at the next event with a backpack full of leotards and books but no opinions. But gradually they began to balk, asking for the chance to grab the keys in their own young hands. 

 

In recent years I am warming to the idea of again being the rider. I am less invested in back seat navigation. Last year I believed God was steering me in one direction. Today I find that the course has a fresh horizon. 

 

"Innocence is wanting to be led by the Lord and not by oneself, so that the extent to which we are in innocence determines the extent to which we are freed from preoccupation with our self-image." Emanuel Swedenborg, Heaven and Hell 341