Wind and Wedding Rings

Trying to remember.
Trying to forget.

Landscapes dull and barren.
Snow from a slate sky floats off rooftops like frozen dust.

A sense of internal purging comes to the surface of which I hardly know how to process. In the meantime, friendships are dismissed, holidays neutered, and vinyl records donated.

The true dark night of the soul is when you are forced to clean up confetti after the party.

Roasted butternut squash and Brussels sprouts, apple chunks and champagne vinegar to make a hash.

Here but not here. Wind and wedding rings. December drifts downward as residue from a sun too distant to care. Ice is forming no matter which way I frame it.

The strange thing is, I have been fighting so hard to say and do my own thing. Imagine waking up one day to learn, despite all the images, events or covenants asking you to constantly make a choice, there is no choice. What feels like a long leash is no leash at all, which paradoxically, feels like a very tight leash. The systems, world and people I am fighting against are actually a shared Beingness. Imagine learning how to see with the eyes of the Soul and finding out that we cannot own or accomplish anything as a separate person. Ideas, possessions, desires, fears – all attachments are surrendered to and embodied in, the One.

This should feel like freedom.

Ego digs in as I dig out, but I think I've had enough.