Wednesday, January 9, 2008
Justice To The Scene
The picture does not do justice to the scene. My new found friends took me for a small hike-I asked to be blown away in consideration of what they might show me- that was the prerequisite for sight seeing. And I was. So much so that I forgot my irrational fear of heights and crawled on my belly out to the edge and looked over. Breathtaking, fear-taking view. I did not bring the camera along out there, I feared I might drop it. I lay on the flat rock, peering over, a description of what I saw is easy, but how I felt? Not so much a feeling, just a being-in a minuscule timeless segment, soaring. Retrieving back the safe distance, I remember remarking that I could not believe I had just done that-not like me to throw caution to the wind(too intuitive really, some risks are worth taking though), but I had to see, had to be out there on the edge. Blown away? Shown a way, a new way to be-free. I won't climb up on the corn crib to repair the roof, but I'll crawl to the edge of a cliff, feeling compelled by something other than my own fear and gaze in utter awe. That's a keeper, a memory worth holding onto-one that I might stack up to many others, and let them go.
I feel an analogy coming on...Shouldn't we, on occasion-when we're feeling weary, life weary-world on our shoulders-set it down for awhile and crawl to the edge? Or walk upright, straight and tall and look it in the eye, fear? It's air really, just air-given the opportunity it will cease to exist in one's mind if one just takes it in anyway, exhaling a sublimity to last all of one's life. A memory making room for only, simply-yes.
And one more thought here, on my deck off the back of my little cabin there in Ten mile-I woke up around midnight, fully awake. Could not go back to sleep, wrapped up in a blanket, grabbed a smoke-went outside, sat in a deck chair and looked up at the stars. Favorite pastime- star gazing. It was cool, the night air-and the lake under the sky there was still and smooth. The stars were in the lake as well, it seemed. A ghostly white figure gracefully floating, reflecting on the water as it neared the shore. Ghostly in a way that I thought I might be seeing things or still dreaming, not really out there on the deck, maybe still in bed-not really awake? But the nicotine was real, the smoke lifting from my lips, rising. So I calculated that I was indeed awake and must be seeing a ghost?! My heart rate picked up(yea, could've been the nicotine...)and fearfulness and disbelieving reared it's shameful head-no such thing, ghosts. Still, I looked around-hoping someone else might be outside, someone I could talk to, lament. No one but me. And the white Egret gracefully making it's way to the edge of the water. Wonderous bird, couldn't sleep either I guess, I was awfully glad to have it's beautiful company. I remember laying my head back again, looking up to those far away stars-for whatever reason, I cried. And prayed. Thank you, thank you-for it all. Amen.