What Now.........

My fingers have gone still on the keys. My spirit is a river that has tired swaying from bank to bank and has found its stagnant center. Within it, I flail my arms form side to side, and try to advance, but find that all I can do is stand and and stare. Everything is different, and yet everything is the same. On the west, willows stretch out majestically with limbs intertwined to shake off the early morning dew that has settled on their leaves. An iridescent ribbon of brown and green hues playfully hides from the sun as the leaves stretch out into the water. The trees have welcomed the day with their power, their grounded spirits, and have gracefully stepped into their roles of life givers, shelter providers, protectors. I see the land of sands and savanna's, and of wild animals preparing for the hunt, for the tasks that stir their spirits awake each morning. The willows and lions take drink from the stillness of my spirit.

I stand in my spirit rather than with it. I watch, through days and nights passing by me how it urges me to fully take hold of myself, and yet I awaken to mornings of forgotten, and fuzzy dreams. My spirit urges me and yet protects me - but from what? It is not from the path that I have set out upon, nor is it from the work that it entails. When I am aligned with my path, the river flows gracefully, aiding the providers and hunters alike - healing along with healers and discovering the harmony of nature, balance, and being.

It is the every day that baffles me, still.

Earlier this summer, I attempted to outsmart the far reaching power of the universe and try to plan - try to build a path upon a trajectory that "makes sense" - in all senses of the word. And yet, I now find myself in a place where I am trying to contend with understanding a void that has settled upon my life, and furthermore continue upon the path that I set on so many moons ago. I awake every morning with the same question on my lips,


what now?

In the face of the passing of a loved one, each one of us faces our own questions, dilemmas, and the endless pain - sadness, anger, despair - hope, for even hope is painful when there is no energy to attain it. In the face of the passing of a loved one, we hear "you must be strong, " - we hear, "life must go on", we hear "they would have wanted you to keep going." Admirable sentiments. However, they remain so only if we also allow the space for our emotions, our confusion, our process of clawing our way back to break the surface, and breathe.  I find myself wondering how it is that my spirit has gone stagnant - how have I found myself in a place where words cannot flow.

I see myself now as having my spirit split into two locations - before and after. You see, before, I knew where I was headed....

>no, I cannot in good spirit  finish that sentence with integrity. Let me start again >

Before, I had set upon a path that I had planned for myself.

>Yes, that's better. >

Before, I had decided to grow comfortably within a structure and see where that would lead me. Now - after - I realize that I may have been trying to confine myself to structure to find another avenue towards healing - my own. Now - after - I see that I've been chasing fireflies in the daylight.

Yet, every morning I still open my eyes and take in deep gulps of my stagnant spirit. Every morning, I take out my notebooks and continue to write, even when the words are stuck. I continue to meditate, even when breath entering my body is a thousand searing needles in my ribs. Every morning, I awaken with my body, mind, heart, and spirit and plunge into that river - Every morning, I try and find a way to make it flow again.

Still, every morning, perhaps for many mornings to come - perhaps for every  morning to come, I will wake up with the same challenge of owning the energy that exists within me to be...to heal...to build each vision, each program, each healing moment...

Still, every morning...


What now?...