Lying awake last night listening to an owl calling over and over in the dark forest. The witching hour-such a rare way of seeing, disturbing, sometimes bleak and raw, a stripped down version of events that peels back the landscape of my life to view the underside as well. It questions my willingness to look at what is often concealed in the bright light of day, the shadow realms beneath our everyday, the subliminal behind waking awareness where there are no easy knowings or solutions to much of anything, no comforting conclusions or lessons learned but instead just a naked seeing and its wash of emotion dribbling over the soul. On the other side of the planet, people are killing each other in a red rage, ending each others’ lives for no good reason really, though their brains tell them otherwise. We flatter ourselves with reason even while the reptile rules. Morning sun. The cat jumps up on the windowsill outside asking to come in from the world. To be held. In my lap. Safe.
Posted on: Fri, 25 Jul 2014 17:03:23 +0000
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