Thoughts and Photographs from the West Coast
Don’t look…..
into the Light
Don’t shoot…..
into the Light
Rules…
Light exposes shadow,
Shadow, Light.
Rules…
Meant to be broken
Light without Shadow
Half Life
Half Love
Half Question
Unlived, Unloved, Unspoken.
©westcoastwoman 2019
“And the day came when the risk to remain tight in the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.” Anais Nin
Release
We tend gardens in Spring under the illusion that we somehow affect the outcome, that our careful placement of seed or plant has anything to do with the eventual opening of the buds of May.
No credit given to the artist and unknown creator of the fragile petals that unfold, we proudly display our garden, rarely acknowledging that we are just the temporary curators of an impermanent living gallery.
Our heart and spirit are also part of this life gallery, we too are meant to unfold and flower in this fleeting moment we occupy space on the planet.
Not born to stay “tight in the bud” we struggle in darkness until most of us break open, this second opening no less courageous than our journey from the womb.
Conscious of our consciousness and knowing that venturing forward will involve both great pain along with pleasure, we willingly submit and release ourselves again and again to the unknown.
One undeniable truth “No one gets out of here alive” and we who have experienced all that this life has to offer will finally stand in complete and exquisite exhaustion and wonder at our solitary arrival and departure on this mysterious journey ………
© westcoastwoman
This was written in response to Girlieonthedge Six Sentence Story Thursday
Prompt word: Release
photo credit westcoastwoman“We drag expensive ghosts through memory’s unmade bed” Paul Hoover
Fully Loaded
Coming, ‘fully loaded’
sporting this years options,
last years designs
illusions, gimmicks, tricks…
all previous short cuts
eviscerated, overhauled, upgraded.
New thoughts, emotions,
technologies implanted and borne
on hands and knees moving
forward in darkness,
trusting, begging, opening,
blessing, praying for release.
Duality blends into
hope of wholeness,
Reuniting shards of
repressed memories,
rolling out the newest model
of one’s unlived lives.
No cherry picking of
options that appeal.
Movement forward to
one truth, this roll out
is all or nothing
large deposit, no refunds
or prerequisites.
Operation best suited
to those experienced
with similar models.
Not for beginners,
a ride you will never forget.
Morning light streamed through the shutters, she awoke finding herself hovering somewhere between content and completely unhinged.
Thoughts flitted from place to place never sure where to settle these days, the cocoon of certainty and safety broken open long ago.
The garden provided refuge but even insects only stayed temporarily taking what was offered in the moment as blooms and nectars ebb and flow.
Relationship offered comfort as long as undeniable incremental changes were factored in, together and apart nothing ever as it seems.
Illusion of control was obvious, nothing to hang on to, thoughts, garden, relationships all morphing into their next incarnation with no action required but Witness.
The New Normal beckoned her with a smile, her thought finally settled:
“Precarious is the New Stable”
©westcoastwoman 2019
Written in response to Girlie on the Edge Six Sentence Stories
Word prompt: STABLE
“All Compost Rots, but not all Rot is Compost”
Lower to the ground.
Kneel and assume, ‘the position’
Reverence: earth, seed, soil
Spring’s sacred cathedral.
Born of winter’s promise
composed, decomposed, Composted
last year fades, surrenders, spirals
More becomes Less
Less formed in darkness,
turned and (re)turned to soil,
Seeds break open to
gamble on new life.
Will I submit to this process
Circle back around
gather lost and shattered bits,
the organic matter of my life
Compost intimate details
brokenness, unshed tears,
turn towards the fragility
not beyond, take the gamble
roots of estrangement
embraced with compassion
Circle back around again
nothing left behind, unattended
no longer in pieces I assume
‘the position’ (re)forming
this new life, this light
born in darkness.
