April 16, 2008

Climb what's in front of you


Hello there.

So, I've just come back from a month visiting my sister in the States. Fancy that! Lucky me, huh? Time away, long rides on planes and a prolonged journey into the spacious place of spring–you can't blame me for delving into some thoughts on new beginnings now, can you? Let's see, where to begin?


Looking at these fuzzy window-seat views from the plane-ride home I consider why a wide, open space can feel so intimidating. It's because it's so big, and I'm so small, and if I walk out into that with all its mystery and wonder, and all it's lack of anything to cling on to, I feel in real danger of getting lost. Obviously.

There are people and things that have really caught me up this last year, some good, amazing in fact, and some not so good, very much like thorny brambles. (The people issues are especially bramble-like as the more you wriggle the worse it gets, and it's not all your fault though beware of the tendency to blame them entirely. "You're complicit in it too," says Father Richard.)

Because of both feeling exhausted and the need to breathe, I've prayed for a clearing in the woods, and now there is one, a big one. There is nothing on offer but this spacious place, and it's time to be brave and step into it. I must confess my reluctance to do so, quite enjoying the solidity of having big projects and problems to rub up against, but that's not any way forward into a new dawn is it? Today is the day for letting the end of a few things be, releasing them and graciously accepting the open place up ahead.

Why 'climb what's in front of you'? Greg's climbing advice. Just bring the focus in to what's here and now, the moves that you must make this minute, and don't be thrown by an occasional view of the massive landscape, which you will never comprehend. Spread your arms wide and shut your eyes, stretch out all the way through to your fingertips and just let go. Breathe in and imagine there is absolutely nothing familiar to hold on to in any direction. Be here, right now. Breathe out. This is all there is. Climb what's in front of you.

*

And because I've been away for so long I couldn't leave it there...

In Portland, Oregon, you'll be walking along minding your own, and then suddenly spy a little horse roped up to one of the old horse rings around the city. Neat reminders about things feeling a little out of scale depending on your perspective!




{Today's soundtrack: local radio - that glad to be home}

3 comments:

Unknown said...

Welcome back, Lizzie.

You have been missed.

Betty Silk said...

hello Mike. Nice to be back.

julie said...

glad you are back too lizzie - great to have your thoughts and pictures to wonder and ponder over - peace, julie