My life feels a little bit like a windstorm right now. There’s
an abundance of rich earthy matter aloft on broad planes of ever-shifting
currents.
It is invigorating. Beautiful. Intense, in a calming sort of
way. And a bit unsettling, even as I root deeper.
Winds of change, opportunity, missed chances, and bright
futures.
The normally clear and uncluttered surface of my desk is littered
with moss-gathering messes and pooled projects. Scattered scrap notes of needy
tasks remind me of the small yellow leaves that have covered the deck since
last weekend’s bluster in the natural landscape.
I had a dream
two nights ago that I danced in the rain in my best clothes outside a formal
gathering place. People watched - slightly alarmed, highly dubious. In an
unrealistic few seconds, characteristic of the dream world, I was utterly
drenched…smiling…free. And I serenely walked toward the door to enter.
Three nights
ago a deer showed up in my dream landscape, the cougar’s favorite prey.
I had a dream
last night that a cougar kept arriving in the yard. Furtive, watchful, and –
paradoxically - in easy collaboration with me. Our interspecies predator/prey
potential dismissed in favor of communion in nature.
The electronic bones of former computers and phones – an odd
find while searching for old photographs last weekend – also inhabit the
landscape of my working space. Entangled with these is the decomposing
three-versions-ago manuscript detritus.
The in-basket is sorted and the plants have been fed…emotional
and aesthetic stanchions of beauty, life, vigor.
I am not getting too much of the dust of schedule changes in my
eyes. Every now and then, though, a small particle briefly irritates the corner
of my eye but is then carried away by the watery tear whose job it is to
cleanse.
The wind fills me with laughter, sometimes hysterical.
All I can do is steady myself moment by moment, seek refuge from
the gusts by sheltering my shoulder against the autumn tree trunk, remain open
to the shifts in pressure, step back into the breeze for another spin.
This is not “bad news” despite the interruptions to an
apparently-false sense of stability. Stability is not unlike gratitude: neither
are conditional, by their very definitions. They live at the core, they breathe
the fires of passion, they show us how we are tethered to something much more
like firmament than filament.
All blog images created & photographed by Jennifer J. Wilhoit unless otherwise noted. Please circulate images with photo credit: "©2015 JenniferJWilhoit/TEALarbor stories. AllRightsReserved."
