“And once the storm is over, you won’t remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won’t even be sure, whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm, you won’t be the same person who walked in. That’s what this storm’s all about.” ― Haruki Murakami
Photo: A desert sunset at the “Big Bend.”
Photo: Somewhere in SouthWest Texas. I’ll be writing about this place soon. 🙂
Well, you can probably guess, this pic is from:
Ongtupqa (Hopi)
Wi:kaʼi:la (Yavapai)
Bidááʼ Haʼaztʼiʼ Tsékooh (Navaho)
Or, as we would call it,
the Grand Canyon.
A beautiful scene definitely full of magic. Considering the Canyon cuts through and reveals almost 2 Billion years of geologic history, yeah, pretty magic 🙂
A wonderful Mary Oliver quote.
Photo: Wandering the Southwest
Indeed, this is a holy spirit.
Many thanks to my blogging friend Supernatural Hippy who turned me on to a book where I found this quote. You ought to check out her page.
In Metta
Photo: My daughter runs her own business boarding horses. A fine couple of renters from the winter months 🙂
Photo: The California Tortoiseshell Butterfly – Nymphalis californica
Back in early November, I had settled into what I thought was a pretty decent routine. Reading, walking, hiking, meditating, and exploring my hobby of photography. That routine came crashing down when the house I was living in became contaminated and I had to make a hasty retreat.*
My patterns are still in a state of disruption.
Writing has become a bit secondary to solving the housing problem. But I did finish a series, at the invitation and encouragement of my blogging friend George,** about marriage and divorce. And that too left my head spinning a bit. I was, after all, revisiting some very painful memories. Basically, these memories, as well as the present situation, all involved a theme in common – the loss of home.
And I mean “home” in the more intangible sense of that word.
Not just a place to stay, but a feeling. A feeling of sanctuary. Of warmth. Of love.
Loss of “home” is not the same as moving out of a place we’ve “occupied.” It’s abandoning a sense of security, of integration, of sentiment. A home is where there is a heart connection. It becomes part of you. An extension.
Usually, this extension of ourselves is tied up with another individual or a family. It’s a communal nature. What makes a “house” a “home” is not the decor. Not the pictures hanging on the wall, or the color scheme of the bathroom fixtures. It’s an amalgamation of the feelings of warmth and protection and mutual love.
Quite an introduction there, I guess.
Intro to what? You know how I like to switch gears. 🙂
Time is slipping away, and as we approach the end of another year it’s time for people to engage in reflection, projection, and resolution.
Some are already referring to this as being the end of a decade. And they’re glad for it, calling it one big dumpster fire.
To others, it’s the end of another year of tumultuous political machinations. Or perhaps, a role call of all those who died, famous and infamous, loved and unloved.
Others find victimization, trauma, sadness, and are truly heartbroken.
And to others still, it has been just another amalgamation of meaningless seconds ticking away on the clock of the Universe.
Photo: A Bluebell somewhere in Wyoming.
I have to admit, I stole this quote from Victoria Ray. She included in one of her posts recently, but I absolutely loved the words. And I played and played on the photo editor to try to get them to stand out on the background pic, so here is the quote in case you’re having a hard time reading it:
“Because when I read, I don’t really read… I pop a beautiful sentence into my mouth and suck it like a fruit drop, or I sip it like a liqueur until the thought dissolves in me like alcohol, infusing brain and heart and coursing on through the veins to the root of each blood vessel.” Bohumil Hrabal
The lilies, by the way, were growing wild along the trail – an astonishing lush forest in an arid, high desert climate. Amazing !
I guess I was a little stubborn about my choice in pictures for this post as I could have picked another to contrast the text better, but I loved the symbolism here – beautiful lush flowers, lush forest, in the high desert – not what one expects to find. But there are so many wonderful surprises in this life. Not being predictable makes life so much more interesting, wouldn’t you say?
