Tuesday, January 19, 2010

burning the sage

Strapping on the day, my mind muddled by the residue of a sleepy wake, I want to go back to bed. We all have our own stories to live and how we write those narratives matter. Me, I want to know I lived strong with integrity searching for how to love in nobility for all involved.  Spice me with humor and a good time & this GoGo knows it will be all right.

The older I get, the less power my walls have over the truth of the matter.  Grief is just a real an experience as happiness and euphoria. Without one, the other can only live in a shallow ego space.  Without balance, we inevitable tip the scales toward all the things we want to avoid.  All our parts work together, body, mind, feelings and soul – this fleshy machine asking us to keep the joints oiled so we can keep moving towards Oz.  

I miss Mouse today. I’ve seen his story in such repetitious sadness.  I find this self listening to the sirens that warn us against the currents crashing against the rocks.  It didn’t have to happen.  But it did and now all I can do is honor the grief.  It’s pointless to point out what added to his misery.  I know I am listening.  But here I go again, trying to arch understanding around the schematics in growing older, wiser, and stronger.  

Ah, but I’ve run out of time for these words on the page.

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