I spent the morning writing:
Last night was a hard night for me. It was a night of realization and recognition, the understanding that some grow faster than others, in some ways, the sudden awareness that our processes and development are independent and unique — beautifully unique.
I have a sudden, deeper understanding of the wearing effect that people can have on people, like the crash and spin of wave on rock — constantly grinding salt and sand into the clefts of a coastline.
We’re all dissolving away under the experience of others. Our faces become newly etched with each storm, with each sunny day. Our relationships have tides pulled through the seaweed by the moon.
Despite the living power of water, the sideways slip of currents, it’s calm in the depths where there’s no motion, no sound, just faint light filtering down, shifting though the clang and clatter of the surface, to rest in slanting beams and smiles until bright fades to black and the darkness settles in a solid, infinite pool.
All that quiet. All that deep dark. All around. Numb limbs. Numb hearts. Numb minds. Isolation. Peace? A sort of peace, I suppose, but still, despite the peace of the dark, most of us choose to claw our way to the storms and day of the surface, to the land of the living where water mixes with sky — no matter how that space might batter us and grow us, no matter how the surface might hurt. We don’t mind the growing pains, the slow etch of our souls, the veneer of self scrubbed away until we’re pink and squirming in fresh new being, once again. Once again. Over and over again.
I try. I try to stand without caution. Exposed and honest with only my soul wrapped around bare shoulders. I summon the waters, watch them rise high and crash down. I am submerged. I am dripping. There, a deep breath before I’m submerged again. I feel the cascade of grit, the many hands reaching, slapping, pinching, calming, soothing. I feel the water carve me a new face. It’s a face that understands the former selves, the past stances, the phoenix rising new from the mud and flame; ten times, one hundred times, one thousand times again. And still one million times more I die to old self and take up my new, silken cloak — smooth skin, fresh eyes.
Still the water comes.
I let it scrub me clean.
Why swim alone when the water calls us all to new essence, better hearts and peace? Why wash alone when there’s so much to be learned by washing together? Why stop the water from carving us anew? Why hold ourselves from the experience of fellowship with each other, even if it would render life painless, even if isolation is quiet and without thorns? We are whetted, one against another, with the blunt and fearful star spangled edges of our souls until our blades sharply sing, spark and know no defeat. The water cuts deep. We cut each other deep. There’s growth here despite the fields of scars that stretch to the horizon. We bow down. We rise anew.
I shed my old self, time and time again.
I continue, always, to take you as my friend.
I stand strong in the cold wind keen.
That which stands as coastline has an iridescent sheen.
____________________________
____________________________
I feel an acute ache for the hinterlands of Canada,
a dull ache in my breastbone for home and North.
My heart is jabbed by the memory of cold green
water slapping the grey, pocked rock of Canadian shield:
shorelines, jack pines, birch, mossy forest floors.
______________________________________
I’ve taken four days to myself now, chipping away at interwebular correspondence, building with leather, walking through fresh snow (three walks a day since Saturday), reading, nursing my neck with hot water bottles, holding my puppy and taking my tea with honey and milk. This morning, first thing, I ran out to the studio and powered it up. I’m ready to work again. I had to shed something old to be able to take up the new.
___________________________________
Today I’m different than I was yesterday, and the day before.
There’s a constant growth here, a slow expansion of soul, ring by ring,
xylem, phloem, cork cambium,
resolute and bending.
There is wind sail. I withstand the storms.
Someday, someone will cut me in two, peer down at my cross section
and say:
“Here was a rainy year…”
___________________________
Let’s all go gently.
: ) Like
No one second resembles the other…xx
I always love the photos you have on your blog, as someone who is very visual, they are very ispiring.
I especially love the first photo of you holding little Plumbalina's puppy paws!
p.s. I love the name Plumbalina, it has been stuck in my head, I keep saying over and over.. So cute!
oh my.
i hear you.
x
Perfect.
Truly, Intensely, Deeply Beautiful.
Was holding back the tears but finally one slipped through…
xo
Your words touch the hearts of us all, always.
I've been on the cusp of change. It's taking some time to shed the past, so to regain self and strength!
Another post that I come away with a lighter disposition!
Thank you dear 'friend'
-lulu
Beautiful breakfast. LOVE the current banner.
I am happy that I have stumbled across your blog and wanted to let you know that you are one of the blogs that I am passing the Stylish Blogger Award on to!
My blog has the details of the award:
http://littleowlarts.blogspot.com/2011/01/stylish-blogger-award.html
xoxo
Brittan
Beautiful. Moving. Inspiring.
Beautifully expressed, profound words to ponder deeply and read over and over again. I can feel the depths from which these thoughts came bubbling up and I too was holding back a tear, then I just let 'em rip! Thank you for being so generous and sharing with us.
Your words always touch deeply. Sometimes I struggle to be re-made free and grateful instead of cautious and bitter. You inspire.
Dear Plume,
I have been reading Pema Chödrön today:
"No matter what the teachings are—any instruction of sanity and health from any tradition of wisdom—the point at which they all agree is to let go of holding on to yourself. That's the way of becoming at home in your world. That is not to say that the ego is sin. Ego is not sin. Ego is something that you befriend by not acting out or repressing all the feelings that you feel.
Ego is like a room of your own, a room with a view, with the temperature and the smells and the music you like. You want it your own way. You'd just like to have a little peace; you'd like to have a little happiness, you know, just 'gimme a break!'
But the more you think that way, the more you try to get life to come out so that it will always suit you, the more your fear of other people and what's outside your room grows. Rather than becoming more relaxed, you start pulling down the shades and locking the door. When you do go out, you find the experience more and more unsettling and disagreeable. You become touchier, more fearful, more irritable than ever. The more you just try to get it your way, the less you feel at home."
So let us swim and wash together!
xo
Perfect words. Yet sometimes even perfect words can't describe what you are going through. I hear you. And Admire you for your determination and skill.
xx
oh momma of plumbelina…..isolation is equally painful, no one should kid themselves….standing open and raw may be painful at times, but it brings with it the POTENTIAL for connection…and it is our connections, and the stories we share, that truly make for lifes bounty…even at a price…….
xo
Beautifully written, dear friend.
Lovely photos and profound, emotionally charged words…
YOU are beautiful.
Your post reminds me of one of my favorite theologians & a quote he so wisely said, that it changed my whole perspective. Would you like me to share? Okay..hehe.."You must die many deaths to yourself." He said this about being a Christian and being made more into the image of Jesus Christ. BeautiFULL.
Hope is that the Light of the world came here for us..and He makes all things new & beautiful.
You may dig this diddy:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=OR7VOKQ0xJY
Much love! <3
you should come home for a visit. but you know i think that. now i have a soft velvety tiny human for you to visit too, if that will increase the pull northward 😉
xoxo
Beautiful and important words to ponder throughout the day. Thank you.
Have you read Rachel Carson's book "The Sea Around Us"? I was re-reading the first chapter the other day, and it resonates strongly with your essay. Hers is more scientific, yours more spiritual, but both are homages to the formative power of the sea.
a fan afloat-
B
Beautiful and important words to ponder throughout the day. Thank you.
Have you read Rachel Carson's book "The Sea Around Us"? I was re-reading the first chapter the other day, and it resonates strongly with your essay. Hers is more scientific, yours more spiritual, but both are homages to the formative power of the sea.
a fan afloat-
B
Hey!
Thank you ALL so much for reflecting on what I wrote yesterday. Each of your comments is a bright copper penny and I've tucked them all away safely.
Here's to being refined through our life experiences, through our relationships, to personal growth, to being improved as individuals by the hands and grace of God.
Love you all!
x
My goodness.
That stole my breath.
So perfectly said.
I always love your words,your photos,your creations…
go gently + be wonderful my beautiful Canadian friend.
xo
My goodness.
That stole my breath.
So perfectly said.
I always love your words,your photos,your creations…
go gently + be wonderful my beautiful Canadian friend.
xo
PS B, I just ordered the book you suggested, this morning! I can't wait to read it! x
Chills. A gritty and poignant piece of writing. One of my favorites yet.
Wisdom suits you.
this is so lovely,
I am inspired…
xo