September 1, 2019

Gathering Place. {Poem}


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What we learn from the mountains is how to go slow.

How to be what we are, as we are now.
How to withstand the seasons, adorning ourselves in their colors as they come.
How to rest.
It takes time to learn the secret of “not doing.” Most of us are incapable of creating the space to sit and be without anything.
Our phones, the greatest modern day threat to “being.”
Our attention is distracted, scattered.
Our minds are performing acrobatic attempts to assimilate all of the information into our systems.
It’s just not possible.
Happiness comes when we are able to sit with the mountain.
No “and,” just sit.
When we are able to be with ourselves where we are without needing anything else.
The world rushes into us then.
It welcomes us back into itself as itself.
As our selves built of stars and oceans and earth.
We spend time seeking truths that are in us already, seeking meaning that was born into us, seeking more than what we already are.
If we take the time to settle into our bones, we find our self home.
It is no small feat to be made of a mountain, and yet, we are.
All, small bodies of nature.



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