Love is my Religion, Sunday in the Studio

It was an early morning of work out in the studio. I can never anticipate when The Muse will descend, and today I woke up as the sun rose, with something calling me to go out and paint.  

It's hard to describe that feeling that pulls me to the studio...it's bigger than me, and when I don't listen to its voice it just simply doesn't feel right. Coincidentally, this happened on this Sunday morning, as rather than being called to attend Church I truly believe it is the hand of God that lead me out to the studio.

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With my rigorous Catholic upbringing, even attending a Catholic university to pursue my art degree, going to Church was always a part of the routine. Couple that tradition with living here in the Bible Belt where what Church you attend seems like another way people use to define themselves, you would think the foundation is set for me to attend Church regularly on Sundays. However, I have found as I get older my need for organized religion has waned.  Sure, I can say it's too hard to get three young children out the door for a 9 a.m. service, but that excuse only goes so far. 

I have started to make peace with the fact that, although I dearly love the traditions in which I was raised, and am sometimes drawn to the comfort of an old Catholic Church like a moth to a flame, I don't feel that organized religion is the only way to find God.  There is no right way. God is inside of each one of us, and I can say with certainty that I have had more honest conversations with him out in the art studio, or on long early morning runs at our ranch in West Texas, or even on my yoga mat, than anywhere else. 

True peace comes when you are able to connect to the divine that is inside all of us, because when you do that all that's left is love. 

Who's to say our traditions won't ebb and flow, and our Sunday morning routine won't change...in fact I'm banking that it will, especially as my kids grow older because I want to give them the chance to choose for themselves the best way to find God. But for now this works.

So this morning it's just me, Brooklyn the dog, Dave Matthews Band and the rain. Fall is descending on Dallas, slowly but surely, and all is cozy in the world. Grateful for this peaceful time to create while the troops inside sleep in late-- now time to clean up so I can go make them pancakes.