Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Yesterday, so strange. The way the universe worked, abundant. I spent the night before in a plate-crashing rage. I cursed the Lord, I did, over and over tired and selfish and mean my spirit shrunk back upon itself like a casing. Tears spent bitter not salty rivulets that mark time onward and always the same, a standstill of agony and suffering and maya or illusion. But the day the day the day brought grace like no other day. There were cranes that swooped through, broken-winged with the intention to fly, my red door the peace wreath opening into others' arms and all those voices and prayers and candles and the visit to the Chinese doctor, her name is Joy, and when she pushed on my leg and said "hurt" it hurt and then she left me lying and the music played and the same thoughts went through my head the man the restaurant that old myself in a dark room the slap of the wok and the ding dong the fuzzy buzz of the needles doing their thing. Later, I stood in a grand hall and watched my son promenade around the room his arm then linked in mine his face my face his eyes so deep and dark but no mystery there and I kicked up my red shoes and I stood next to a stranger and knew for a moment again who I am.
Posted by Elizabeth at 7:00 AM
Labels: who i am
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Reading your post makes me wish I had been there with a crane. Some lyrics from a song came into my head "....let it be a dance we do. May I have this dance with you? Through the good times and the bad times, too, let it be a dance we do." I don't recall the name of the song or the rest of the lyrics. But what I do remember, seems appropriate.ReplyDelete
I have a philosophy which is that you cannot have a bad time wearing red shoes. We should wear red shoes all the time, darling Elizabeth.ReplyDelete
I am so glad that picture was taken. I am so glad I could see your moment of joy in the midst of it all.
crashing into the very STARS
and making beautiful
Raw and beautiful. (and no coincidence that the word verification is "pain.")ReplyDelete
Time, perspective, energy shifts. Why is life so mysterious. We watched Diary of a Wimpy Kid last night. There is a scene with a mother son dance. Priceless.ReplyDelete
Your post reminded me of a verse of a song, Lord of the Dance, which is sung to that Shaker tune of "Tis a gift to be simple":ReplyDelete
I danced on a Friday when the sky turned black
It's hard to dance with the devil on your back
They buried my body & they thought I'd gone
But I am the Dance & I still go on!
even for a momentReplyDelete
can mean all the world.
I want to read this again and again.
Well... I know the place you were in. That's all can say. Except maybe that I go to that place as well.ReplyDelete
I love that photo, and am grateful that the night turned to day again. I wonder if you know how much I love you.ReplyDelete
Holy shit. No, really, holy shit. No accidents that after a good rage came the peace.ReplyDelete
Your writing is exquisite. Ahhh, I've been in this place, too..."my spirit shrunk back upon itself like a casing." And I've had the strange, unexpected gift of love and grace after... I'm so glad for the "cranes that swooped through, broken-winged with the intention to fly..."ReplyDelete
you are so lovely.
The pendulum swings...so glad you had the high to balance the low.ReplyDelete
I'm surprised you don't have plate-smashing rages more often.
Some powerful visuals in your stream of consciousness, Elizabeth. Life certainly has its swings from one extreme to the other.ReplyDelete
What a day, what a dance, red shoes and your boy!ReplyDelete
The photo speaks the words. Your words speak the feeling of the joy of dancing in red shoes with the beautiful boy.ReplyDelete
Grand to slip into your stream of consciousness river of wonderful words, and share the red shoes and dance along. Fierce. Ecstatic. Real. Thank you.ReplyDelete