A simple view...one filled with elegance also. That is what it was! The scene reaped of peace--of harmony even--and through the silence of the evening (other than the splashing of a fish in the sound or the wonderfully harsh grating of a tern passing by to go to roost) I heard the sky proclaim many things with its beauty. It was simple. And...it was elegant. So true that it is worth repeating. And there was also a moon and a star...and me.
After a full day ocean side a sound side evening of reflection comes welcomingly...The perfect way to end a perfect day. This evening seems to be enchanted though and I get these hints early on through a most glorious sunset and...a moon and a star.
I look up to see the clearest evening skies that I have ever seen. Nothing mars the striking glowing colors or the clarity...no wisps or puffs of clouds- Not a thing. And yet suspended up on their own accord in that wonderous way in which we all at one time or another wondered how they stayed up there was a single and brilliant star and a brilliant sliver of moon. So close together in the ether they were that they seemed to form a couple. They were a pair. Silently they spoke myriads to me--they spoke of beauty & amazement, of love & life, of wonders of the world, they also spoke of the simplicity but yet mysterious elements of the earth that surround us..the ones we are meant to feel but never truly understand. They are the elements that guide us and befriend our souls. It is a faith. They also spoke of inspiration. Inspiration sometimes seems to come with a price that is lonely. And sometimes inspiration stumbles and falls...until moments like this ~ They are matters of the heart. And sometimes the bittersweetness is felt.
The dusk gives into darkness and the couple still resides high overhead becoming even more brilliant as they arrive in their time. Its a sign that all is right and as it should be. It will become a constant in my life now... among the many memories of this bittersweet trip. It will be one of these constants that you know you can depend on ~ one you can rely on. Although suspended there for all the world to see, I feel like it was just for me...and as I stood there on the balcony...it was a moon, a star....and me.
As a child I was a cloud gazer...just what you would expect from a child. I looked up to the clouds and viewed them as friends. I looked up wide-eyed, full of wonder and with an open heart. I was a child with high hopes and even some dreams...this is what makes a cloud gazer. There was no limit to what one could see in the clouds. Who we are help us to shape the clouds in our lives and what we see. I am not sure when I stopped being a cloud gazer...that seems to be lost somewhere in time. But, at 43 years old I have once again become a cloud gazer. It brings back to my life a sense of "muchness"...something that at this point in my life really counts. Muchness--a borrowed term but one that is so fitting that I had to keep it and make it mine. Once I heard the term I realized that just perhaps that my own muchness had gotten lost along the way. As I am searching for my lost muchness I look to the clouds. Seeing their shapes, their sizes, I realize how short lived they are. There one moment and the next, they are gone...gone forever...taking on another form, another personality. Never one to ever be duplicated again...just like a day in life but more fleeting. I often spend time wondering where the clouds above me have come from--how far did they travel to meet my eyes and how many different shapes must they have taken on? I can compare myself to a cloud in that there are many faces and many moods...The bright blue sky is but a back drop to the scene but not always seen, but yet it is a constant. Clouds and shadows lend to color and depth. Some days light hearted and serene, some days melancholy and gray, and yet other days filled with fury. They show their moods--their human-ness. But a cloud is a cloud and all have a personality no less. Free floating and free changing forms with no worry or even a concept of time. Drifters they be as they seemingly drifty by unconsciously. To be a cloud for a day--drifting, floating, no worries, a form of many shapes--to be a wisp--a wisp of a cloud. The feelings of pleasantry that I get from just the mere thought of it makes me giddy..as giddy as a 43 year old cloud gazer can be...I see a glimpse of my muchness...
Seashells...I have for so long admired their beauty, the feel of them, and the mystery of them. Some of their mystery is their beauty. And...they are comforting to the inner me. I have many times held them in the palm of my hand and have been exceedingly fascinated by them. I have been awed by their shapes, their patterns, their intricacies. It sends my mind spiraling like the whorl of a shell itself. I have been beguiled by their subtle and simple colors and hues and have been mesmerized by many. All are beautiful, each one with a history that we know not...for it is simply a shell. The part taht we admire, the part that we know the best, is merely a shell...So what do we really know? More than once I have wondered about the true and former occupant--the mollusc--that once lived inside. I am truly curious when it comes to the "heart of the matter".
Recently I was gazing at a small crystal that is hanging in my window. It spins and spirals and life breaks free...A friend of mine gave it to me and as the light reflected through it I was awed at her favorite color...roygbiv..All the colors of the rainbow. And for some reason, the reason unknown to most but made to be known at the time that it must...came through to me reflecting in the reflection. It was then that I realized how much like a mollusc that I really am.
There are very few people who really know ME...and a lot who think they do. What they are seeing, however, is my shell. And as it is that the mollusc inside the shell forges its own shell through the processes of nature, I , too, have forged my own shell. Mine however has been forged spiritually...forever seeking...I am a wandering spirit and a drifter at times. My spirit, my feelings, my thoughts run too deep, perhaps, for those around me who choose not to travel with me. Lonely at times this realm can be...but you cannot beg or teach someone to know you or get one to truly feel the unseen that you do. Its a wealth that remains in the deep recesses of my heart, and my heart alone. At times a curse, but yet a good curse.
We see the empty shell...we admire it. What happened to the mollusc inside who created the shell? Chances are...we'll never know. And chances are that the many around me will never know either. I am a restless and wandering spirit, and a flowing soul, but I am also a mollusc and this is my shell....