On silence, voice, & privilege
Even in the roar of criticism, I am called to make magic, to keep peace, to raise my voice into the shouting sky.
Even in the roar of criticism, I am called to make magic, to keep peace, to raise my voice into the shouting sky.
At my writing group, our facilitator read us a poem called "Winter Grace" by Patricia Fargnoli and invited us to write for twelve minutes on whatever moved us, either from the poem, our evening together, or life. Following the free flow of words is magic, simple and pure.
I follow the call to sink into the silence and stillness. Solitude calls my name and shows me my reflection as a sacred offering. In this place the forest will ask me to embrace my truth once again.
Artwork and poem from Sept. at-home meditation retreat with Susan Piver...
Lock ‘n load. The times they are a changin’. Summer turns to fall. Silence turns to voice. Pounding turns to stillness. Always, we are changing. Today, I’m trying a new writing technique. I’ve set my timer, put on my sassy cowboy hat and loaded a little Don Henley on the iPod shuffle. Hmmm. Who knows what will transpire... and does it really matter?