|
|
IT IS good to start out clean, i suppose. wash off the dirt of yesterday. and then handle the accumulation of new dirt a little differently. with a little bit more poise. more acknowledgment. less fear. our bellies and brains are cleaner now. ready for new life and new lives. we braced ourselves for it. more than that, we called for change--initiating ceremony after ceremony to invite it and to prepare for it. so why do i feel startled? like cold water being thrown on my warm, sunned face? like the trees and the air are moving on, proceeding with autumn plans, without me? a week left. to sort and feel and write and reconnect and disconnect. i want to escape the escaping. but it's not an escape, this "move." now, isn't that more respectable? this is a move--a deliberate life change. so then why do i want to huddle myself on warm rocks in Southern Utah instead? why do i feel like a little pale yellow leaf, falling falling, shifting back and forth, spinning and twisting in the wind? watching the mother tree above me, spreading herself wide in the brilliant blue. i see my mom in white, as if in vision. my forever angel. and smell the security of my father--longing for little girl pajamas with pink fuzzy feet. a child of 27 years hurting more from her security than lack of it. so my wiser self, who has seen the many tears and who now understands them, stands in the refreshing autumn wind with her clean belly and cold fingers opening up to the skies. decidedly happy at the fall and at her falling. decidedly pleased by the movement of the air and the movement of her mind. she knows the summer has grown stale. she knows that soon enough she would choke on that warm air and burn in the sunshine. but how to remember her? the tall, white, wiser one when i want to crumple up inside my fears on dark, cold nights? that's the trick of this season. clean bellies and cold fingers [2002-10-03]
Navigation newest letter | older letters
Last five letters Gathering [2009-09-04] ?2002, Scott & Celeste. |