SOC Writing_ 6th September 2020

At home in myself

Long ago I was a stranger to myself. Run, run far away from the big feelings of my youth – across farm and up clay sodden hills – to escape my anger and rage – to find a solitude where I could rage and it be scary only to myself. Those days have gone and now I rage in plain sight – do my ‘angry dance’ - if I need to – buy mostly find the time to feel into all that is arising in me – taking better care – caring less about the other and their needs and thoughts (who can control this any way?) Everything is arising and decaying, arising and subsiding. So let the long age of me long ago me be just that – long ago – the start of a mythic story – of how we begin. Begin – I love the idea of beginning again – even so soon after having just begun – not to incomplete things that are not perfect – but to come back to where you began as if for the first time and start again. The beauty of freshness - like sea weed fresh from the salt water – the brisk air of mountain air on your face – begin again now – or whenever you wish to. Let go something that has gone stale – begin again – again. Not so long ago my judgments would out weigh any possibly of starting like this, travelling like this – so lightly, spritely, delightfully because fully I can become me – love me, and thus love you – my brother, sister, mother moon star family. Beyond the captured mind is freedom – the body creates and lets go of many cells every moment, millions every day – everything – everything is starting and ending and doing it with such grace and style. Our consciousness too is doing this if only we would notice it. Get out of the way and feel the way into our day – to hold the child and notice his heat and morning yawn and stretch – to receive the ”happy fathers day” as the most genuine gift I’d ever hope for. These passing moments make up the whole loaf of my bread of life – my bread, god for good bread – oven smells, oyster shells, chardonnay and rugs on the beach, bbq coals and shoals of fish – resplendent in divine, in olive oil, butter, lemon juice, salt. The nearly done – moment of moments of deliciousness - captured by the sea, the fire, me – my kids and this newly emerging glee.