Sunday, June 6, 2010

Rocky Mountain High

Last week, I took my great blank slate, my flood-plain heart and furrowed mind to higher ground in Colorado. I went to visit my brother, with no agenda and no idea what each day might bring. In such a perfect state of non-expectation, lessons abound and are painted in deep, rich tones...there is nothing pale or tentative about mountain love. 
It will pick you up and drop you if you can't find trust.
It's a long way to the bottom.
                                                                 Birth never ends.


Life always seems to be waiting, though, at the end of the crazy passages...
I'm looking at the view, thus it looks right back. No lack of eye contact here!
I marvel at the tenacious springing of tender things (like myself), hanging on in the most unlikely, seemingly hostile places. Everywhere, there seems to be a natural urge...



...to leap out of the earth (so curvaceous and craggy is She!)...
                                                             ...and DANCE!



The stretching, the reaching for who-knows-what, to get to the top of who-knows-where, only to find some other height before you, is natural and essential.
                                                    So are the resting places...
...and the sight, sound and feel of the rush.

                      (Alright, there may be dragons!)
                                                 
                                     Even a rough climb down is worth the risk!
 I survived the rib-cracking, granite-style bear hugs, the harsh lectures of staying up all night (what, at my age?!), and the evidence of ongoing birth and death on every path. This place is haunted with kills by cougar and weather and the brutal falls borne out of human arrogance and lack of common sense; the sun is so bright that I could see details of myself--flaws and intricacies both ugly and sublime--whether I wanted to, or not.

The last full day of my adventure, the medicine was sweet, and the mountains wore a bit of velvet, in a softer light. Sunshine condensed into flowers, bright souls dancing down the slopes, perching happily on all the edges. I pass them on, directly to you from my heart, scraped clean and still quite alive...

                                                                          Peace. :)

4 comments:

  1. Ahhhh - I like seeing my "neck of the woods" through your lens! :) Was this Red Rocks or Garden of the Gods or maybe Boulder? (or none of the above...) Beautiful country - ay? Love your commentary too, as always. Thanks - Christine

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  2. Hi, Christine...

    Red Rocks, Morrison, Evergreen, Boulder and somewhere near Gold Lake. "Beautiful" is an understatement...hope to come back soon! :)

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  3. LorenE--

    It does take a certain maturity to adapt to "life in the vague". It's a bit like trusting oneself during a free-fall. I believe in planning loosely, and not clinging too hard to outcomes. :)

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