He points his finger to the stars.
The sky ripples.
He remembers his name.
All is still.
-Richard Seymour

I keep this poem on my desk because it reminds me to reconnect to my power as a being of Source Energy. It reminds me that intention and action, coupled with belief, is how I create my experiences in this Universe. It reminds me of the magic we all possess and the comfort that comes from being still, and knowing.

As artists, we need this reminder. As humans, we need this reminder.

Especially when we come upon situations and circumstances that throw powerlessness in our face. When we are witnessing, writing, photographing, filming scenes of suffering, loss, pain and cruelty. It’s so easy to lose sight of who we are, to get lost in the powerlessness that loss presents.

We are helpless, many times, to alleviate suffering. We are powerless to change seemingly impossible circumstances. Devastation. Political upheaval. Disease. The quiet snap of a heart breaking.

We stand by with cameras, pens, laptops, words, images and feel our chests suck in, tighten around the unanswerable questions. We feel the pain, the anger, the fury at wanting to have something to fight against and the sickening realization that we’re impotent to even raise an arm against it. Anger gives way to sadness. Sadness to depression. Depression to questions about giving up.

Questions.

What if we’re asking the wrong questions?

What if instead of wondering how and why, the real question is: what can I do to remind a soul, even just one soul, of its power as Source Energy?

Because that is what we need when we’re brokenhearted. To remember who we are. And that can be the most powerful thing we can do for someone else.

We can’t always help change circumstances. We can help change thoughts. Gently, sometimes blatantly, remind people of their power to see things in a different perspective.

Thoughts are our most powerful expression of Source Energy. And reconnecting to thoughts that lead us to remember who we are is where healing begins.

As artists, as humans, we deal with the big questions in life. We deal with suffering and loss. We witness and we craft and we infuse our artistic work with these questions. Sometimes the questions themselves are the work. Sometimes it’s where the questions lead that is the work.

But no matter what, we need to remember who we are and let that ultimately come through to our audiences.