The Eye

In the Storm I stand, on shifting sand,
While heaven's light steadily loses the battle
with the tempest raging, surrounding, resounding,
uncaging from its binds.
Chaos whips my skin from all directions
in the form of dejection, disappointment,
rejections and pain.  It finds
a crack in the armor that's formed,
so diminutive as to exist in abstract.
This is what the demeanor attracts, that appears not affected
by the day after day after day of challenge,
of push, of stress, of blame, of lies intended to shame.
Those outside behind a wall, stare in awe, unaware of the flaw,
as emotion seeps through the fissure forming,
yet I stand non-conforming to the buffets of fear, of doubt, of strain.
The pain acts as mortar to fill the gap, and strengthen that
which is holding me firm
In the storm I stand, no shield, no spear, for the battle is not waged
against the winds and debris and lightening and rain.
I don't hold the storm in disdain.  It is my companion, my shaper, my whetstone.
I welcome its coming, for knowing nothing else I let it surround me, go through me,
around me.
I lean in when I must, bending forward with each gust,
holding ground that is at once mine and not.  What I've got
is the knowledge that the Storm will not last.  It hasn't before, not in any past.
It simply rages until its energy is spent.
This event is my life, and I'm honed and strengthened,
ready to offer to any who would love and trust,
this simple fact that I must be the one who,
on the shifting sand,
in the Storm I stand.
It is Life.
It is Destiny.
It is Me.

cd - 102716  10:34 p.m

Contemplation on the Step

If I've learned anything from my maternal Grandmother, the value of the step is quite possibly the strongest lesson.  I should explain.

I would go to her house (she lived next door, which meant a soybean field away), and find her just sitting on her step.  That's it, just sitting.  When I asked her what she was doing, she said, "Just enjoying the outdoors".  For many of us "enjoying the outdoors" means actively doing something: swimming, hiking, playing sportsball, fishing (ok, you don't do much action fishing, but you get my drift).  For her, it meant just being with nature.  Listening to the sounds of the breeze through the trees, feeling the sun on her face, smelling the flowers growing and the turned soil.  Enjoying.

I'm 56 now, and through the years I've come to understand what she truly meant.  I have a step, and from time to time, why I need to clear the mechanism, I just go out there and sit.  I don't think about anything...  I just sit and experience the effect of everything around me on all of my senses.  Now, I prefer to do this at night, particularly when the moon is bright and the sky is clear.  My touchstones are the moon and stars (since I can't actually be at the point of the Cape at night...thanks, Government), and I know if I just sit and allow my senses to be filled with the night sounds, sights, smells, touch of air on my skin, I will be cleansed.  The only rule is to empty my mind, and not think. I can feel the rhythms of the earth and hear the songs of the sky if I sit there long enough.

I won't tell you I come away with the answers to all my questions and concerns and worries.  But what does happen is I come away with a clean slate, where I can write my own solutions, or realize the worries are trivial and don't serve any purpose other than to upset my world.  I don't really have a "religion", although I've been down that road.  I can, however, claim spirituality...  and I never feel closer to my spiritual self than when I'm out there on my step...  just enjoying the outdoors.

cd - 102016