The Silent Mountain Within

Becoming Before Being

I became a mother before I had fully become myself. Much of my early life was shaped by caring, nurturing, holding everything together. There was love, of course, and purpose, but the quiet development of “I” came later.

It was only when I returned to adult education that I began to discover who I was beneath responsibility. Ten years of study gave me language, confidence, and identity. For the first time, I could stand in my own name.

Creativity as Doorway

The fifteen years that followed were rich with creativity. I stitched, taught, gathered women together, built communities, and made books from cloth and stories from thread. Creativity became not just something I did, but something I was. It sustained me. It gave shape to my days and meaning to my work.

And yet, recently, I have felt a gentle pull to go deeper. Not louder. Not bigger. Deeper.

I do not feel restless or dissatisfied. I feel grounded. Strong, even. But I sense that creativity, as powerful as it has been, is not the final destination. It is a doorway. Beyond it lies something quieter - something closer to the soul.

The Mountain Shifts

The mountain I once imagined in Japan has begun to change in meaning. I no longer see it as a place I must travel to, but as an interior landscape I can choose to walk now.

The first steps were physical. I made a dress to walk in - simple and intentional. When I put it on, I did not feel transformed or theatrical. I felt grounded. As though I had clothed myself for something steady and patient.

Then I created my Japanese Journal, a place to gather inspirations, fragments, and reflections. I have always built vessels when I need depth - books, folders, jars, containers for meaning. The journal is another such vessel. A quiet mountain of paper and ink rising on my desk.

And now I carry a notebook and pen.

I have begun to write in a stream of consciousness way, letting words come without shaping them into something polished. When I do this, I do not feel exposed. I feel enlightened. As though something wiser speaks when I move out of my own way.

Writing has become less about producing and more about listening.