7/1/2010
This morning we depart for Colorado, leaving a queen and her retinue to the sunny devices of the Halifax spring. After a whirlwind visit, and some well deserved (dare I say) time off, we are back to Colorado for some of the only teaching of the summer.
I think C and I are both pretty exhausted, and the prospect of a new being in the court and all the joy and duty that will bring is both daunting and inspiring. The afterburners will go on, the show will continue, and hopefully we can maintain our sanity in the midst of it all.
A few days ago, in the midst of one bout of frustration and exhaustion, I went on a long run along the water and through the woods, emerging finally at a small park where I was able to walk down to the ocean. As my mind churned and boiled, I felt a swell of sadness and tenderness well up. I remembered my friend Daniel, and for the first time in a week or so, allowed myself to cry. I am waiting to see him in a dream; hopefully he’ll tell me how he’s doing over there.
The inspiration to forge on comes at auspicious moments, and the reminders to do so cheerfully are like little jolts of happy lightning. I’m finding out that this is a very difficult job to do, and not just to do it, but to remember that the situation is nothing short of sacred. Realizing this sacredness is the gateway to seeing the world as sacred; relating to the environment and people with whom we live day in and out with an attitude of appreciation is an incredible reminder, and one that is not always appreciated in the midst of the occasional claustrophobia of the environment.
when you fly
it’s best not to think about it
and when the ground falls out from under you
there is no way to get it back.
amidst the echo of discursiveness
there is an intricately blooming
melody that bends in the rain
and rises as steam off the ocean.
the kindness of friends and mentors
is a precious jewel,
worth enduring unbearable sadness
and difficulty to enjoy.
the hole left in their absence
is like the space between
the nucleus and electron–
essential to the unceasing play:
the silence that makes the music.
with the joy of space,
while we will always be alone
we will never be separate
from the essence of our own
profound, vast, and
unshakable heart.
