Tears pour out like an ocean from hidden depths, grieving a loss too old to express in words and too wide for thoughts to confine. I sit, surrounded by salt and sea foam, on a desert of water. Seven years of hiding, twenty years of believing. I wake to an ocean wide with solitude, rocking on the tide. I cry and heave into her unfathomable spaciousness, a salty offering, one drop at a time. Mind echoes the voices of thousands, "I am a wave imagining itself separate from the sea". Words. They fall heavy into the depths and I am left thirsty, surrounded by water and longing for a drink.
When everything looks bleak and the darkness cramps against the cold, it takes courage to simply look out from imagined isolation toward the wide horizon of beauty available in every moment. It takes courage to lean into the sea of life and trust the tide. When weary limbs no longer support us, it takes courage to trust our inner buoyancy and float. It takes courage, in the face of darkness, to remember the light and sit in all our apparent blindness and listen, silently, to the still, small whisper within. It takes courage, in that dark hour, when nothing else remains. Eyes closed. Eyes opened. A glimpse, a memory, a fleeting vision of a light so bright it blurs the borders of things seen and things perceived into a comprehensive wholeness of being. It takes courage.
Comments