I wonder whether others can see the mystery inside of me. It's churning like a faintly wet mist. I can almost see, but not quite. The ground is unsteady, soft and unready. My feet are unwilling to walk where I can't see the vision.Is that the vision? Is that my fear? Is that a glorious picture of potential energy that doesn't exist? The air is clouded by that faintly wet mist.
The weed tree that wasn't there three months ago, five months ago, has more than suddenly appeared. It stands as if it has always been there, in the finely trimmed ideas of who I am. It shakes in the breeze. It bends in the wind. That could be good. That could be all of the flexibile fluency with words and ideas that defined me for all of my years.
It could be an answer.
I reflect.
I don't think or ponder. Instead I am a mirror, but this time, I am reflecting me. I think.
My heart takes hold of the view. The faintly wet mist moves so slightly back so that I might see just a glimpse of the silent trees growing along the river.
My heart warms my thoughts. I can wait until I know. Unitl then, my heart will believe enough that knowing will be an idea like the rest hidden in the faintly wet mist, in the mystery of the mist.
Don't push the river. The river pushes itself.
--me strauss Letting me be
11 comments:
Mist seems to be the essence of me. I know I am there ... and what I AM is there ... and what I would be. All I have to do is reach out and grab it ... but it evaporates much as fog does when the sun shines on it.
And though I am left in silent frustration I know that I will find out one day when, instead of evaporating, the mist silently clears away, allowing me to see in detail all that I only suspect.
As I read, I felt the mist and sensed the mystery. It's a visceral thing though for me. The moisture on my skin feels hydrating and nourishing. Only if I am willing to keep walking does the vision reveal itself. Never all at once, but just one bit at a time. My heart knows that it's enough. For now. All the while, the mist keeps me moist. It's a companion on the way.
Hi Mickey,
You and I know the mist. We can see ourselves in it, and the future it holds is still somewhat hidden.
Your comment says so much in such a beautiful way. Thank you for adding to the metaphor with your experience.
Hi Dawn,
Good morning in the mist!
I feel the faintly wet mist too. I'm glad that the moisture is hydrating and nourishing. I like how your walk makes the vision become clear for you.
How wonderful that your heart can know it's enough to get further glimpses moment by moment. That you can be friends with the welcoming mist. :)
Hope you and yours have a lovely holiday weekend!
Mist...I like mist it is light and refreshing, but dense fog... I do not like it. Have you ever seen how it actually can "roll up" It is freaky and it kind of scares me. It is like a thief in the night, and I don't like that you can't see three feet infront of you. {ugh}
You post such beautiful pictures, where do you get them from :)
Have a great Holiday!!!
Hi Marti!
Thank you! I'm going to try to find some little bit of extra sleep. :)
Hi Lucid!
Deep fog can be scary, especially at night when I'm driving. The light is reflected right back to my face and the feeling of not seeing is also claustrophobic. It almost feels as if there is a way in, with no way out.
The photos come from more than one place, but most come from stock exchange.
Sweet Post
Thanks Lance.
I've been thinking about you. :)
I am in your city today, headed out the door soon with my uniform on.
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