Friday, July 16, 2010

Wind

I went for a slow hike this morning. It wasn’t hot yet, unlike yesterday. I needed and wanted to be outside. But my legs, depleted already, were dragging. I would take a handful of steps and stop. I would just stand, or sit, and be, for no idea how long. And then walk a bit again. It was accidentally meditative.

I noticed the wind. I made my way down the hill as the fog burned off. There were lots of little breezes. Every so often, I felt a gentle coolness on my skin. The wind would brush me, and brush past me. I would smell the earth, and the sweet dry grass.

Every time I felt it, I thought, “This will carry you. The wind will carry your memory.”

I’m not romancing death. I’m not yet dying. I have a very serious, most often fatal illness, which is moving at an unpredictable speed. I feel sick from the treatment, but not yet from the cancer. I am very much alive, and I would rather stay here.

Still, that is how the wind struck me. And it was completely okay.

7 comments:

it's margaret said...

...because, isn't the wind so much like the Spirit.....

Kirstin said...

Exactly.

Grandmère Mimi said...

Yes. What Margaret said.

Two Auntees said...

Wind and water. The two things that make me feel profoundly at peace.

Sending you hugs.

claire said...

Thank you for sharing this here.
Blessings.

Caminante said...

Walking is so innate to the human being... why else do people go on pilgrimages? Walking is patterning, enabling us to enter into a rhythm that enables the heart, mind and soul to wander equally. Whether the pace is slow or fast, walking is sacred.

Add in earth, wind (and fire, the spirit) and one is on holy ground.

So glad you could find some of that yesterday.

Kirstin said...

You get it.

Love to all.