dark

(i am not supposed to talk today, but does posting here count as talking? what do you think?)

the big cloud in me has shifted enough that i can see it for what it is: a big cloud. in the process of shifting. as clouds invariably do. i was reading my own blog this morning (such a wholesome way to start the day...), and it all looked so dark. the words, the photographs. i thought 'why so hopeless, so grief-stricken?'. three answers came rushing in.

'it is as it is because it is as it is. and it's absolutely perfect that way'. hhmmm. where have i heard that one before?

'because these are the darkest weeks of the year'. these weeks in which the cold has seized, and the light is disappearing further every day, and there is serious reason to doubt whether it will ever in fact return (just because it did last year, and the year before, and the year before, and the year before, does not mean that...). weeks in which sleep is a blanket too heavy to throw off, and the night-mares come galloping over children's heads in the small hours. if you are to grieve, and doubt, and fear, and lose, and feel the breath of death, as you must, being human, then when would be a more appropriate time than now?

'it isn't all so dark. look better. listen more carefully. close this computer. go out into the woods. go find the light.'