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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
i find ways back into the silence and stop trying to make sense of any of these things.
5 thoughts on “release • become”
so very beautiful, your words are here. and then, the words you shared from the book. could you share the title of the book with me? i wonder if i could get it here in the us? xoxo
the more i sit and stare at the walls in this go around of emotion and angst and uncertainty, i realize that there is nothing to get. nothing really to release, except maybe the parts that stand in the way of the beholding of the miracle, of the knowing that the miracle belongs to you, me, US. i love you.
love how you take back the power of your own words– make them work for you, for your life
love how deeply (and sweetly) your thoughts travel
that quote is stunningly beautiful.
as are your words and your openness.
i adore you and think you are the bee’s knees. you keep doing what you’re doing leonie wise, you’ve got it right. xo
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