always there

I love talking a walk with the world. I walk in its shadow. It doesn’t expect an opinion or an answer. When promises and preaching leave me behind, it reminds me that it doesn’t take a person to provide.
I took a walk with it this Sunday. And it helped me remember that joy is not an object. It is a point of view.

Direction nowhere

I’ve spent this summer losing myself. Head held high, confidence in my stride, and with a backpack of good memories, I left college behind, believing that what I needed was a break from the routine to clear the mist of monotony in my head.

And now, four months on, a greater fog sits heavy in the recesses of my brain – one of confusion, misgivings and trepidation. My store of memories are beginning to spoil with the rot of overanalyzing what was.

I am now a parched, travel weary, once enthusiastic traveler, misguided by a self drawn map that assured me that enlightenment would be waiting at the end of my path.

If only I had borrowed one instead…

Prayer

God give me grace
And boldness of face
Let me find a little place
That I can call my own

i miss pencils.

Shelley and I - snapshots

Rivka and I - the truth

Providence

My request for loneliness, unlike other prayers that were delayed in transfer channels and by weary divine courier staff, like a letter containing an offer to donate, was swift to be read, and replied to, not leaving me with time enough to set aside promised resources and prepare myself for the huge deficit that I had offered to incur on account of having too much and not knowing what to do with it.
From incessant noise with A shouting over the din of the tele, Dog braking over the effort of A to be heard, and B barking back at the dog, I now find myself in deafening silences. I can hear air. I can hear stillness. And I am alone.