The hours are tangled in knots,
rhythm and cadence of linear time
a thing of the past
This tethered pace is awkward —
JUT. JAG. lurch. SCREECH.
A rapid break jumpstarts my heart.
Adrenaline rushes to the edges of my skin.
Mind races to make sense of pandemic.
I grasp at Normal to remain —
“Normal, won’t you stay a little while longer?
Pleeeeeaaaase, I’m begging you?”
She resists my plea and takes her Sabbatical.
Rest, however, is not on my to-do list.
Feet are clumsy as I rush to the store,
Hands thirst for lotion as I wash my hands (again).
I swear I see invisible germs everywhere.
My body lifts and I float like a mosquito
to the blue glow of the news.
My heart breaks over and over.
Make. It. Stop.
I peel myself away from technology.
I have space now —
to untangle story knots
from thousands of hours on earth.
This isn’t work I want to do.
But, it insists.
I pick up a jumble of thread,
pause with knots from my path of life.
I gently wash the weave in hues of
green gold, lemon yellow and liquid blue.
A soft pull with radiance loosens their restraint.
Patiently, I listen in to what each gnarl tells me.
“Remember that friend from ages back?” the first knot says.
“Reach out to them.”
“Remember when you let anger simmer over miscommunication?” the second knot hums.
“Release it to the wind.”
“Remember when you felt the “right way” was better than the “loving way”? the third knot asks.
“Choose love over righteousness.”
The mixed motif begins to clear.
I search out the meaning of Corona, defined as
- the gaseous envelope of the sun
- a part of the body resembling a crown
Sadness ripples as I dwell upon
the glow of the sun infected,
the invisible crowns we embody tainted
The surge of my brain’s restlessness presses,
“What can we DO?
What will we DO?
What IS there to DO?”
I touch my concealed tiara with tenderness
I press my hand to my heart
I breathe into the depth of my gut
I look at the loosened yarn on my lap,
a rainbow of yin-yang
In this unraveled tapestry, the
fragility of life greets me
with a shimmer and a wink,
a voice of knowing
rises from the depth of my Spirit
Her urgent questions shift me
from looking back to looking here,
from dwelling future to dwelling now.
“Who are you BEing?
How are you spending finite time?
What are you co-creating with the Sacred fire
who lives within and around your BE-ing?”
She reminds me
not to give up, but
to show up.
Lean in to presence.
Bring compassion to dark spaces.
Hold a piece of the suffering,
not the entire weight.
And, yes —
Trust in the dawn of Holy light.
This is the way of pilgrimage.
I am the pilgrim.
So are you.
There is no destination,
only the next step.
Rest easy. Take care of yourselves. Listen to what your body needs at this time. You can check out my new page of FREE Intentional Creativity video practices that will guide you to your Inner well of Wisdom. Find it here.