Forums
New posts
Search forums
What's new
New posts
New profile posts
Latest activity
Internet Search
Members
Current visitors
New profile posts
Search profile posts
Log in
Register
What's new
Search
Search
Search titles only
By:
New posts
Search forums
Menu
Log in
Register
Install the app
Install
Forums
Parent Support Forums
Parent Emeritus
To Tell the Truth
JavaScript is disabled. For a better experience, please enable JavaScript in your browser before proceeding.
You are using an out of date browser. It may not display this or other websites correctly.
You should upgrade or use an
alternative browser
.
Reply to thread
Message
<blockquote data-quote="Scent of Cedar *" data-source="post: 646293" data-attributes="member: 17461"><p>This is such beautiful imagery.</p><p></p><p>I love it.</p><p></p><p>Thank you, Albatross.</p><p></p><p>Yes, the piece about one hand clapping is mine, too. </p><p></p><p>I have been reading Anne Lamott, tonight. Help, Thanks, Wow.</p><p></p><p>It is an incredible book.</p><p></p><p>Her writing makes me very happy.</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>It seems we all are broken, here. Not just here on the site, but here in this life and here, on this Earth. Surely there is purpose in it. We are circling toward the center, toward the core of the thing, of a thing, of some thing. We become compressed, we are under pressure, what we have always known is not enough and <em>like a galaxy or a nucleus</em>, or like a nova star, we burst and shine and show one another our true colors because the brokenness prevents anything less.</p><p></p><p>Here is something pretty.</p><p></p><p>(Albatross, you are calling so many things written so long ago! Our imaginings are similar.)</p><p></p><p>:O)</p><p></p><p>Yes, this one is mine, too.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>Within the monster's core is fueled another, secret burning; a burning fired when Time was young and a shimmering whirl of hydrogen shattered against the dark. Consumed by the raging heat of its own compression the shining, fairy borne thing collapsed, pockmarked and punctured beneath the leaden force of its own burgeoning gravitational field. Imploding again and again against that starstruck dark, it was grown ever denser, was grown ever, impossibly, hotter until in the roiling hellhole at the core of it, atoms colliding with such force that their cushioning electrons were stripped birthed ~ magic.</p><p></p><p>And in that sweet and infinite dark the brilliant, split second majesty of nuclear fusion teetered.</p><p></p><p>And blew.</p><p></p><p>And there burnt, in that emptiness the rogue had sailed, the fiery hellhole of a raging, new blown star.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p>So maybe, though I thought I was writing about stars and planets...I was writing about myself, and about all of us, all along.</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>Slowly created with sacred intention...I love that imagery. That is what we are doing here, isn't it. </p><p></p><p>Sacred stuff.</p><p></p><p>It's so scary though, because until we look back on it, until we can pull all the pieces together, it all just looks like a string of disappointing days.</p><p></p><p>They do say that, though. Saints and mystics, I mean. They say our lives, our very mundane, day to day lives, are living prayers.</p><p></p><p>Maybe that is true.</p><p></p><p>"Lest I grow cold about him or let his ugly behaviors devour me. Sometimes it's the only gratitude I have for him. So.....I'll take it."</p><p></p><p>Headlights Mom</p><p></p><p>So, this is a miracle, that this came exactly when I needed it <em>and Headlights Mom did not even know</em>.</p><p></p><p>So maybe everything is true, and very real, and we are all on sacred ground, the ground itself made sacred because we are here, after all.</p><p></p><p>Which doesn't mean suffering sucks any less.</p><p></p><p>Cedar</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Scent of Cedar *, post: 646293, member: 17461"] This is such beautiful imagery. I love it. Thank you, Albatross. Yes, the piece about one hand clapping is mine, too. I have been reading Anne Lamott, tonight. Help, Thanks, Wow. It is an incredible book. Her writing makes me very happy. It seems we all are broken, here. Not just here on the site, but here in this life and here, on this Earth. Surely there is purpose in it. We are circling toward the center, toward the core of the thing, of a thing, of some thing. We become compressed, we are under pressure, what we have always known is not enough and [I]like a galaxy or a nucleus[/I], or like a nova star, we burst and shine and show one another our true colors because the brokenness prevents anything less. Here is something pretty. (Albatross, you are calling so many things written so long ago! Our imaginings are similar.) :O) Yes, this one is mine, too. *** Within the monster's core is fueled another, secret burning; a burning fired when Time was young and a shimmering whirl of hydrogen shattered against the dark. Consumed by the raging heat of its own compression the shining, fairy borne thing collapsed, pockmarked and punctured beneath the leaden force of its own burgeoning gravitational field. Imploding again and again against that starstruck dark, it was grown ever denser, was grown ever, impossibly, hotter until in the roiling hellhole at the core of it, atoms colliding with such force that their cushioning electrons were stripped birthed ~ magic. And in that sweet and infinite dark the brilliant, split second majesty of nuclear fusion teetered. And blew. And there burnt, in that emptiness the rogue had sailed, the fiery hellhole of a raging, new blown star. *** So maybe, though I thought I was writing about stars and planets...I was writing about myself, and about all of us, all along. Slowly created with sacred intention...I love that imagery. That is what we are doing here, isn't it. Sacred stuff. It's so scary though, because until we look back on it, until we can pull all the pieces together, it all just looks like a string of disappointing days. They do say that, though. Saints and mystics, I mean. They say our lives, our very mundane, day to day lives, are living prayers. Maybe that is true. "Lest I grow cold about him or let his ugly behaviors devour me. Sometimes it's the only gratitude I have for him. So.....I'll take it." Headlights Mom So, this is a miracle, that this came exactly when I needed it [I]and Headlights Mom did not even know[/I]. So maybe everything is true, and very real, and we are all on sacred ground, the ground itself made sacred because we are here, after all. Which doesn't mean suffering sucks any less. Cedar [/QUOTE]
Insert quotes…
Verification
Post reply
Forums
Parent Support Forums
Parent Emeritus
To Tell the Truth
Top