|Original art by Judith Parsons Art 2016|
Do not use without permission.
There is a lovely poem by Mary Oliver, The Journey. Anita brought the poem up as we discussed our quest. The truth of all of this life is simple.
We should get back to the oldest lesson of all:
If you have nothing good to say, then say nothing at all.
We tend to complain to the people we love about people that have crossed us or have harmed us.
Those negative words are dark, like burnt papers.
They are ash that builds up over time.
Then a fierce wind blows and the ashes are stirred up and then the air is dirty and foggy and blurry.
Nothing can be seen.
In fact, you must close your eyes to avoid the ash getting into your eyes.
The only thing that can clear the air is time.
When the ash has settled and the air is clear we find ourselves the color of ghost. Perhaps THAT is the lesson.
In order to start over, there needs to be a death of sorts. A closing of a door, a changing that is deeper than any change we have made thus far.
We stand, the white ash like baby powder slides down toward our feet.
We are born anew in the baby powder ash of negativity.
The Journey begins again.