Part of “removing what covers happiness” has to do with social connections. I’ve stopped reaching out to folx who aren’t reaching back. That’s hard but feels necessary. I’ve spend time with dear friends and family but I’m seeing how shallow many of the connections I’ve had are. I don’t feel invested in changing that. Instead, I cherish the deeply-rooted relationships I have, including the one with myself.
That just pulls me down into my rootedness. In the dark beauty of life. Have you been experiencing the stars this autumn? I have taken to sitting in my home alone in the dark and just watching the changing night sky. Wishing I could capture its beauty to share but knowing I can’t. That’s what I’ve come to realize about the radiance of darkness–it’s personal. Life grief. Like the moments when we first wake up in the morning and realize we’re still alive. Sublime.
I have no idea what it’s like to be a man in this world. Art, at it’s best, can help us see what is happening so it can be addressed. We can’t heal what we won’t acknowledge. I sincerely want to be part of the healing.
That’s how we find meaning: through playing, exploring, creating, loving, constructing and deconstructing. And also through listening, softening, deepening, and remaining open to possibility.
Purple can be the color of mourning
And the color of the irises that I once planted in my mother’s garden.
I’m writing this to just get it out. To put it down. I found a smattering of random notes in my writing desk. There are pages and pages of observations. I’m putting them here because I think maybe there is a theme but I may only find it by sharing. I also don’t want to…