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butch

Paul Newman and Robert Redford in Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid

The past few days I have been…noting… jotting down my thoughts on this and that…or tracing out quotes from the various books I am reading all at once this week.

Today, I veered off after an image that came to me this morning at The Oasis.

Jen asked us to invite something else into the room.  Something we have been pushing down, ignoring, “Let it come in the door and take a shape and…”

And I was off and scribbling….

My death slopes into the room and leans back in the shadows like a cowboy

and it isn’t fear or regret I feel

it’s relief.

A pulse of of do more do more do more

Of waste less time zings through me

But this lanky cowboy, Death, just spreads his hands wide and shrugs.

And the truer feeling, clearer seeing,  lands.

Freedom.

Freedom to speak what I need to speak and do what I need to do because, yes, of course,

we are all dying

right now.

And I think back on something a Wise Woman told me,

When we have wisdom, it needs attention, it needs welcoming  and then it needs honouring through action.

I see you, cowboy, and what you bring with that crooked grin of yours.

I welcome your sunsoaked eyes and dusty hands that smell of sage and red-rock desert.

I take a breath, close the laptop and go into the kitchen

To drink my coffee with my sweet Raggedy Man before he heads into town.

Because that is the action called for.

The rest can wait.

So it goes.

Have a good weekend, all.

Sending out extra blessings to my American pals who are gathering for Thanksgiving this weekend.

go easy~p

 

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