creator, editor, story tender
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
A post-dramatic approach to breast cancer
Because there's never enough time to do it right the first time but there's always enough time to do it over
Stories and photos from Scotland
Historical fiction, poetry, essays
A post-dramatic approach to breast cancer
Because there's never enough time to do it right the first time but there's always enough time to do it over
Stories and photos from Scotland
Historical fiction, poetry, essays