My evening excursions often lead me along the edge of a narrow, steep canyon. Every single time that I stop and gaze out over it, a memory relives itself in my mind with crystal clarity, flooding my senses with smells and cellular sadness, even though my mind has made peace what ‘what happened, my being … Read more
Standing on my rock,
on the top of my bluff,
feet planted,
arms to the sky.
The wind whips my hair into a tangled mass around me,
challenging my hold.
She reached up and a huge seagull came to her and sat on her hand. “You need to remember the distress with all of your might, and you need to let it go with every breath.”
We have a choice at every moment, in how we rise in the morning and face the day, in how we greet each other or strangers on the street, in how we treat our bodies and our minds, in how we look at others’ woundings with compassion or disdain, in how we focus on making money rather than addressing the core of our security needs.
My evening excursions often lead me along the edge of a narrow, steep canyon. Every single time that I stop and gaze out over it, a memory relives itself in my mind with crystal clarity, flooding my senses with smells and cellular sadness, even though my mind has made peace what ‘what happened, my being goes there and brings to light one more wisp of seeing.