“Even when we aren’t sure it matters, we write it down.” Isabel Abbott
offerings at the arctic circle
I sit and weep and wake and wonder what matters. What is caught in this sieve of my mind?
Soften comes the whisper. Like the crows in my garden, I lay hard bread on the altar of flow and ask it to soften. This rage at a world gone mad where children’s lives become rubble under rich men’s mansions. Where cancer and illness ravages young bodies. This anger at my neighbors for their screaming and shouting, their horrid behavior that disturbs my peace. My peace? Why the F do I think I deserve peace? Because we all deserve peace. Care. Love. Understanding. Compassion.
Hard bread on a watery fountain. Hardened things won’t go through a sieve. I pray to let go of the stone in my heart. There, underneath that stone, in that mystery, lives the opening. The softening. The space where noticing flowers blossom and humming Om Namah Shivaya is the perfect offering. The apology for all those years and decades of not noticing, of remaining hardened, of refusing to believe in magic. Crow caws. Perhaps I’m onto something …
To shift the energy from rage to calm. To raise the vibration. To stay in the fight. Calm calm calm.
Does it matter if I weep silently in my bed or if I rage it across the internet? Does posting something make it any more real? What if the silent connected path is my way? Or your way? What if right here right now we can delight in this absurd world? Rage at the outrages. Soften into and trust intuition. Notice the blossoms. Release the bonds that hold us hostage in our minds. Pause and listen and raise vibration.
I weep and mourn and rage on the page, in my paints, as I stroll. This makes me whole. “Happy you. Happy world” I see the healers’ smiling faces. “Ah, you healer.” Yes, I am. And this right here, right now is my medium. These dozens of journals and books written over decades are my medicine.
“We write it down. And that act becomes a kind of meaning.” Isabel Abbott
What is your medium? The medicine that brings you back to wholeness? How will you practice it today? I’d love to know. Namaste. Aho. Amen.
Writing is usually my medium of choice, and I will gather in one hour with my writing partners AND cooking is my other expression of choice. Beautiful piece Kayce, thanks for expressing and creating.
Writing is usually my medium of choice, and I will gather in one hour with my writing partners AND cooking is my other expression of choice. Beautiful piece Kayce, thanks for expressing and creating.