2 min read

release • become

release • become

i hear these words spoken, but don’t know their context. i keep repeating them quietly to myself like a mantra, wondering what they mean. i wonder (not for the first time in my life) if i am missing out on some joke that everyone else knows.

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a meditation prompts me to gather all the scattered parts of myself, call them back in.
i change my quiet mantra to GATHER • BECOME.
that feels better; more right.

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we think about what it is we want to release, let go of… nothing comes and again i wonder if i am missing something, if i don’t get the point of all of this… if i am the only one who doesn’t ‘get it‘. i sit, staring at nothing, whilst everyone else writes, folds, submits their words to the flames. i will the words to come. i realise (now) that if i’d perhaps relaxed the words might have found their way to me with a little more ease.

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i meet another version of me. the encounter surprises me and i am unable to hold back my tears. my throat constricts and i escape the conversation to sit in my room, gulping air, wondering what i am meant to do with this strange gift. wishing for something less cryptic.

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once again, i wonder if i am getting any of this.
but the messages keep on coming, mirroring my feelings: the orphan child, the nature child, the hermit.

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i feel shallow and insubstantial; like i have somehow lost the conversation with the deepest part of myself. but every single thing seems related to every other thing i am experiencing, so perhaps the conversation continues…

i flip open a book that someone else is reading. these words grab at me, asking to be noticed.

before i scurry into the details of this day, let me touch that web of timeless peace and drape it gentle on my shoulders. let me gaze from the leaded window and watch light dance upon the apple tree and swell with tears of gratitude for the miracle of life.
gill edwards, before i scurry.

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i dream about a dying bird.
i dream we make it comfortable and i stroke its soft head as it dies.
i hope it has a peaceful death.

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i find ways back into the silence and stop trying to make sense of any of these things.