Walking in the Woods

 

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Desperate to find a way to interact with life, catching glimpses in sports when movement and space seemed to bend, seemed tactile and plastic.  Not knowing my place or how I’d find my way, I longed for something real with which to commit my awareness.  Knowing somehow and yet isolated, I ventured through high school and college, like any other seeker, trying to find a path to make sense of my existence, but with the volume turned up way too high.  A hungry ghost.

Walking through the forest the other day, remembering that feeling, that longing to engage and harmonize with everything around me, to feel a part of what is happening in a visceral way.  To find what is real.  To live from that place.  To participate in rather than observe my experience.  And now, so much the opposite, like standing on top of each moment, out walking, immersed in this saturated sensory embrace, without filter.  No beginning or end.  How I wish to gift this realization to those struggling to discover this, give them permission to relinquish control, relinquish the barrier which divides them from reality.  Open the flood gates.  Give them authority to interact with their environment, where awareness and everything around lose division and the essential essence fills us with grace.  To create in the uncreated.

Walking in the forest, lost in the environment, pulled along through space, tracking this moment, catching the traces of unseen, unknowable guiding forces.  Congealing, disappearing, pileated woodpecker and Douglas fir, moss and autumn light.

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2 Comments Add yours

  1. Anders H says:

    Lovely piece. The sentiments coming off the page have a lot of heart in them. Almost like prose poetry.

    1. Oh thanks so much! Glad you enjoyed it!

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