The spiritual equivalent of altitude
sickness: the mix of awe and compassion is too thin for me, and my
soul lies gasping on the pebbly ground, while the hemlocks throb
against the twilight. If I could just catch my breath –
You might have to go on without me, and
pick me up on the way back.
I was given a massage tool when its
owner died: a white serpentine in a shallow 'S'-shape, smooth as
jade, which warms quickly to the hand. I've never used tools
in my practice, but I keep the serpentine on my bedside table, and I
toy with it sometimes before I fall asleep: it fits into my hand in
various ways, and seems always on the point of conveying something of
terrific importance to me. I fell asleep one time, holding it, and
hoped it would bring me a dream, but it remained silent. Dreams
aren't sent like credit cards. You have to earn them.
I am failing, failing some important
test, and I don't even know what it is.
5 comments:
"I am failing, failing some important test, and I don't even know what it is."
That statement startles me. When I was nineteen I knew I was dying and your statement was what I was dying of. Two years later in the midst of continued and basically constant suffering everything changed. I mean everything.
I do not mean to imply your situation is adolescent. I do not think mine was either no matter how old I was then.
alabaster curves
cold stone tongue against warm flesh
white serpent speaking
Thank you Christopher! I do think my situation is adolescent, except that the hope of my growing out of it is dimmer than that :-)
Tiel, how wonderful! Thank you so much. xo
Dale i just discovered your blog and am a loss for words. Your entries are stunning and heartfelt, and as a fellow MT/writer I am so happy to have found your work. Thank you. Really looking forward to reading more.
Kristen, thank you! And welcome.
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