Posted by: scintillatingspeck | September 28, 2013


Last night and for much of the morning today I felt horrid.  I was caught up in a slimy tunnel, unable to see much save for the last splinters of broken dreams, wanting mostly to stay in bed.  Difficult though it was, I heeded the insistent, internal demand to go out for a hike and emerged into the woodland beauty of Chapel Brook.

Roots at Chapel Brook in Ashfield

The roots, the quartz and granite, the soft moss, the flowing water, the ledges, the clambering to the top of the hill, the autumnal landscape:  these patiently guided me to a more peaceful state, entwined in the timelessness of the present moment.  They offered no answers and expected none from me.  They spoke to me in silence, encouraging me to relearn the language of the forest.

Later, I relearned smiling, with a surge of buoyancy and love.  How can I describe the deliciousness of watching the darkness fade as I felt my face beaming, and knew, knew, that I was not alone?  that those who love me are smiling back, no matter how distant in time or space?  that the suffocating, enclosed, anguished feeling can melt, vanquished, withering in the light of that love?  Can I convey the magic of such a shift?  I know what it’s like to crawl on my belly through a tunnel of pain for days, weeks, months, and I can’t assume that it won’t happen again, but to experience such a springing forth, so quickly– it astonishes me.

Meanwhile, there is still plenty to fret about, and I’m choosing to breathe, to savor, to glorify this moment with all my strength.  Come with me, loves; touch the bark, the ground, the skin.


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