squam cabin reflection, 9.14.08
(more about this photo here)
the words from the paul simon song "once upon a time there was an ocean" are continuously swirling through my head. this is a song of my heart (i wrote about it over two years ago here).
these words:
i figure that once upon a time i was an ocean
but now i'm a mountain range
something unstoppable set into motion
nothing's different but
everything's changed
yes. those words.
that is what life after squam is all about for me.
this is what i know.
what i wrote in that last post...about standing in the light and rooted in all i know...those words carried me like gentle golden light as i traveled on a plane across the country...as i dropped fears and what has beens and what might have beens and past hurts like feathers across the country...as i stepped outside after pulling into elizabeth's driveway and felt the trees of new hampshire embrace me as she did.
those trees...
those trees whispered to me all week.
you already know, they said.
you already have the answers.
you already know all you need to know to be in this moment, in this place.
let your heart be open.
do not let the fears of the past close you to all that could be.
yes.
those trees whispered to me all week.
they whispered as i helped (the incredible, amazing) elizabeth and her dear husband t before everyone arrived. they whispered as i embraced old friends and met new ones. they whispered as i remembered the past and faced forward toward the now. they whispered as people shared themselves. they whispered as i painted (yes. me. i painted). they whispered as people saw the best of themselves. they whispered as i saw the best of me.
and the light dappled down between those trees and surrounded me with truth and love.
this is what i know.
the beauty and joy and real-ness and love fest and light and song and play and silliness and nights by the fire that was squam art workshops has pushed me to begin to own who i am, what i know, what i want.
and how blessed i am to be feeling this.
to be seeing this.
to be understanding this.
and now i sit in the quiet.
i sit in all this quiet.
and i remember the laughter and the song and the play and the truth and the deep, wide embraces of it all.
i remember and i push myself to acknowledge that it is part of me now.
even though it seems so far away (you are all so far away) and it is so quiet now, i push myself to honor that it is inside me.
and i turn up the music and listen to my cabinmate sing her wise words.
and i twirl inside all that i know...
all that i have always known...
and i live.
i live.
i live.
