tonight

I walked tonight
at the moment when the charcoal of the dark
smudged itself against the pastel violet
of the setting sun

when the stars sparkled
like fools gold
in the depths of the darkest blue waters

where trees rose up
silhouetted against the sky
in greeting
branches, like arms, stretched out in warmth
like long lost friends

where the sounds of the moment
are muted and dampened
and become soft whispers and caresses
changing the landscape of what's known

I walked at night
when the day
transforms itself into a new beginning.

- lml March 28/07

What is suicide and when does it become your responsibility?

The last few days, the issues of control and responsibility and life have been very much on my mind. A couple of people close to me have put them in positions where they want to take control of their lives, and specifically take control of where they lives might be leading or how long they want them to last.

It's obvious that it's a human reaction to want to help someone in need. That's part of love, I think. It's what makes the world go around. I think the desire to help is in each and every one of us, and in some, the hero archetype even rides a white horse and is willing to go through difficult terrain and terrible weather to rescue the victim. To prove to them that someone cares for them and loves them and will take away their pain.

But is that real? Is that truly what would happen if they were saved? I don't think so. I feel pretty sure that when the lights fade, and the hero rides off to another disaster, the person would still continue to wrestle with whatever demons and anguish and pain they feel.

So, at what point do you have to step away from your horse, your self-sacrifice, your sense of responsibility and righteousness, and simply let a person choose their own path and their own destiny? Aren't they going to anyway? What will your suffering do to ease their troubled hearts?

At what point does a person or an institution decide that while they can make the body better, and physically OK, they can do nothing for the soul and the mind and the traumatized psyche that exists in a place where medicine, and touch, and love, and healing can't go.

I suspect this philosophy doesn't sound ethical. It doesn't sound right to just let someone be. Let someone experience the life journey that they are supposed to. On their own terms. And in their own time. I suspect it doesn't sit right to believe that simply by letting go, standing off to one side, providing acceptance and empathy and compassion, and offering to them whatever tools you may have (IF they want them), and acknowledging that you can't do any of this for them. I suspect it seems analagous to Judas washing his hands of Jesus' blood.

It feels like a betrayal, doesn't it? It feels like something criminal and inhumane.

I think it's important to care, if it's truly how you feel. It's important to show someone that you accept them as they are, without asking them to change or be different. I think it's important to feel it in your soul, when you open your arms wide to hold them. I believe it is beautiful to be able to look into someone's eyes and make them laugh, even when they are holding back tears. But it seems impossible and ineffectual to force someone to be a certain way, do certain things, live their life according to your own rules and beliefs, simply because you want them to.

They have to want it. For themselves. They have to want to get better. Want to figure out what is ailing them. Want to find the courage to face the demons that haunt their waking moments. It has to come from them, I think, to be something that will change what they know and take that first step into the unknown.

Sweet Riding

I went to Jay Peak this weekend. It's been about 28 years since I was last there. I didn't remember a single thing about the mountain - not the way the slopes were carved into the mountain side, or the chalets and condos, or how much snowfall they get.

OMG, do they get a lot of snow. They had 30 inches (almost 3 feet) on Friday alone. It snowed all day Saturday AND Sunday! It was sooooooo lovely - feet and feet of soft and powdery goodness. It made everything so hushed and subdued. The sound was dampened. And the quiet was so good for the soul.

I felt like I was scuba diving - that same reverent hush that you feel when you are under water. That same sensation of being cut off from contact with other people; that feeling of isolation; and that oneness with your surroundings.

There's something so amazing about being in a winter storm and being on the slopes. You are so swaddled in with clothes and padding and helmets and safety features. You feel utterly invincible and yet, you stand on that board and feel the elements and take it all in as if you were standing there naked.

You ride your board, surfing the snow dunes like they were waves cresting on the ocean, totally lost in the sound of the whooshing and the glide of the board on the soft surface. Feeling the flex and flow of the board under your feet. Surrendering to the momentum of the hill, the silkiness of the mounds underneath your feet, the wind in your face and your hair, the movement of the trees as they gust and blow. Almost like they are cheering you on.

Talk about a totally amazing ride!

Super Heroes to the Rescue

I thought I'd sit down this morning to try a new concept out - to sit and write and see what comes out of a stream of conscious. I got the idea from Morning pages, which comes from the book, The Artist's Way. I neither have the book, nor do I see myself as an artist.

I am, however, trying to cultivate my creativity. It seems to have gone to sleep for a little bit after I moved here; as I discover this new area, a new home, new area of town, explore some new possibilities at work. That's a lot of "new".

Perhaps my creativity becomes stronger when I feel like I am in a rut, when the world around me feels stale, subdued, faded. Like a fresh coat of paint on a rough and worn surface, bringing a sense of opportunity and spark, I harness that creative outlet like a super heroes donning their cape and Lycra clothes.

Out of a necessity and need to keep me balanced, fresh, hopeful, optimistic.

*Yawn* at Dawn

I thought I was adjusted to the springing forward of an early DST, but this morning, I could hardly drag my butt out of bed. I missed the chirping of the birds and the sun coming through my window.

I suspect it'll all be there again in a couple of weeks. It just proves to me that, once again, I realize how much I enjoy the sunshine. And... that spring is almost here! : )

Because it's true...

Thank you, Walt, for the reminder! : )

"As for me, I know nothing else but miracles,
Whether I walk the streets of Manhattan,
Or dart my sight over the roofs of houses toward the sky,
Or wade with naked feet along the beach just in the edge of the water,
Or stand under the trees in the woods,
Or talk by day with any one I love,
Or sleep in bed at night with any one I love,
Or watch honey bees busy around the hive of a summer forenoon...
Or the wonderfulness of the sundown,
Or of stars shining so quiet and bright,
Or the exquisite delicate thin curve of the new moon in spring...
What stranger miracles are there?”

Walt Whitman, 1819-1892