Usually our image of the water’s edge is either a rugged, rocky shore or a perfect expanse of glistening sand. But usually the footing at the edge of something new is more of a mix—some rocks and some sand, comfort and challenge mixed.
As you look out toward something new, how does the footing beneath you feel?
Any vessel, however seaworthy, needs time in port to refuel, to load or unload cargo, to lay in provisions or otherwise prepare for the next journey.
What is your favorite place to drop anchor and prepare for the next leg of your journey?
“Did someone say that there would be an end,
An end, Oh, an end to love and mourning?
Such voices speak when sleep and waking blend,
The cold, bleak voices of the early morning
When all the birds are dumb in dark November—
Remember and forget, forget, remember….
Now the dead move through all of us still glowing,
Mother and child, lover and lover mated,
Are wound and bound together and enflowing.
What has been plaited cannot be unplaited—
Only the strands grow richer with each loss
And memory makes kings and queens of us….”
―May Sarton
Whose memory makes you richer in spite of the loss?
Sometimes you just head out into the day, prepared to be carried along by whatever breeze may find you, buoyed by a sudden lightness that you find within.
Where have you been carried by whimsy?
Halloween issues an invitation to turn toward the mysterious, the hidden, the things that excite and frighten us because we don’t fully see or understand.
What intrigues you even if it doesn’t appeal to you?
