From the Archives: Bullseye
Planning the moment, living the lesson, owning the shot
Edit: This issue was previously posted as part of the former publication, The Muse Guild. In honoring the stories we tell and the common ground we cross when we do, this selection shares the lessons we find when we keep our hearts open to receiving them. Continue reading for notes on connection with self and others.
I didn’t know that a gift I’d give to someone would, by way, be a gift to me.
“Do you want to guess what we’re doing?” I did a flirty little dance while bringing my palms together in a signal of mysterious mischief.
After a few tries, they gave up and opted for the surprise.
“I’m already excited since you said I could dress athletic,” he said.
Let’s call him Ozark, a man who expressed that experiences were his love language. And as an intentional lover girl through and through, I remembered a bucket list goal he’d mentioned early on in our conversations.
Much like the night at the ballet, I hoped this experience would feel for him the way The Nutcracker did for me.
One simple detail, I took notice to and made it into something memorable… no matter his role, my story leads.
That’s what muses do— we create moments, memories, meaning.
That’s what muses do— we create moments, memories, meaning.
The next day, we headed up I-85 with 2000s neo-soul on the speakers and me in the passenger seat, doing my part by putting on a show.
A stop for a Snickers, a nosebleed, and a few rounds through the parking lot later, we landed at a church with a field of targets lined up.
“So… church is quite an experience,” Ozark teased as he pulled into a spot. We laughed and made our way to grab our bows.
He tried to play it cool, but I could tell he was excited. My ego was definitely present too because, well… I know me and thought this would be a great gift. I was excited. It would be a first time for me too.
Coach Yale introduced himself and led us through the steps.
“First off, a warrior must be grounded.”
There was a circle of us, younger, older, and in between, with Coach Yale and his assistants in the mix.
We lifted our arms
Deep inhale
We pressed our feet into the ground and held.
Deep exhale
we released.
I knew in that moment this archery class would be much more for me than I expected.
I set an intention: I stand here with open ears, an open mind, and an open heart to receive all that is being given to me.
Before I continue with this story, let me get you on track with the ways of the peaceful warrior:
An archer must be grounded in position.
An archer must focus on the target.
An archer must be centered in breath.
We prepped ourselves before finally testing our new skills.
I aimed at the target and shot. Ring 3, the outer most ring…bummer.
Again Ring 2.
Again Ring 3.
One of the coaches asked what bets we had placed. A gentle reminder to be present for the experience more than anything. We determined the stakes before the next round.
Whistle blows.
Aim, shoot… Ring 2.
Aim, shoot… Ring 2.
Aim, shoot… BULLSEYE!
My heart filled with excitement. Coach Yale stopped by my station.
“You’re holding on too long,” he said. “Remember ‘Let it go, let it go!’” he sang in the tune of Frozen.
You see…I do hold onto things too long—be it expectations, people, or perfect outcomes. And here I was, trying to control the very thing I needed to release.
I aimed again.
Quicker release.
Closer to the target.
A few more rounds. A few more bullseyes. We snapped pics, tracked our scores, teased each other. It was light. It was fun. It was meaningful.
Coach Yale returned.
“Looks like your aim is off-target. Try closing your left eye.”
I tested his advice and added it to my process.
Aim.
Shoot.
Bullseye.
He nodded in approval.
Another lesson received.
Sometimes we know our target, but we’re aiming in the wrong direction.
Sometimes we need to change our perspective to find clarity.
As we left, we recapped the experience and drove to the next part of our day. Lessons swirled in my mind and I anticipated getting to my journal to document it all.
I thought about how they could change the way I show up for myself in this thing called life.
I felt full.
I gave and was joyful about the experience, but the gift I received made it more meaningful. This was proof that when I listen to my own intuition, follow curiosity, and let go of control, I land closer to the center of myself every time.
That’s what being the muse is about: crafting a life where the lessons are yours, the wins are yours, and the bullseyes? Yours too.
That night, we cued up the next episode of Ozark on Netflix (that’s how he got the name).
“Wait… let’s count those shots.”
“Yes, let’s.”
I swiped through the photos as he counted.
Final score: He made 8.
Me? 9.
Bullseye.
I hope you enjoyed this little moment as much as I did sharing it. Here’s one piece I’ll be saving from all of this:
Muse Wisdom: An archer doesn’t just hit a target because they aim well, but because they know when to release. A lesson for all of us.
Remember, you are your own muse. What scene are you writing next?