Skip to main content

Soul Homecoming: Taste

I am riding down a long escalator, so long, that I cannot see the bottom. Stark white walls tower high above me, boxing in the escalator.  The only light is pallid and comes from rectangular windows far too small, and far too high up to light the space adequately.

As my gaze becomes less focused the walls appear to close in and then move back out, like jagged breath.

I am suddenly aware of a woman riding several feet behind me. She sits on a step, exuding a charged energy, coupled with a sense of relaxation. Her hair is a beautiful flaming auburn and frames her face like a lion's mane. She wears black horn-rimmed glasses, a fitted woolen red dress that extends mid-thigh, where long black stockings take over, extending to her feet. She has a colorful scarf around her neck, and a pencil tucked behind her ear. A black satchel rests up against her side.

We sit together in silence for a moment riding down the endless set of moving stairs.

I finally break the silence.

"Do I know you?"

"Yes, dear, we've met before."

"Oh," I say.

I rack my brain, but I can't think from where.

She smiles at me.

"How are you, sweetheart?" There is just a hint of a southern drawl.

"Um, everything's a little upstream right now." I say.

"Yes, it does feel that way, doesn't it. There, there, have a cookie."

Just then I pass a delectable plate of chocolate chip cookies, and have plenty of time to take one.

I take two.

I look at her, a little ashamed.

She smiles warmly.

"Cookies are helping me, arent' they?" I say.

She nods. "Yes, they are."

"They've always been helping me, haven't they?"


I nibble away.

I stare straight ahead, finishing my cookie, and saving one for later. We are quiet for a long while as we ride down, down, down.

"Will this ride ever end?" I ask looking behind me, but the woman is no longer there.

"Hello?" I say. "Hello?" I say a little louder hearing my echo.

No answer.

A sadness creeps over me. I want to get off this ride more than anything. Could it really be this endless?

I keep my gaze straight down into the darkness of the tunnel, hoping that I will see some kind of light indicating an exit.

Down, down, down. How much further could it be? So dark.

It is you who light the way. I hear in my mind.

There is a soft glow of light that begins to emanate from me, becoming stronger and especially bright at my heart center.

In the warm light I see the walls to each side of me painted up with the most extraordinary murals depicting earthly existence, so elaborate and intricate with detail, that I can't take them all in as I descend deeper and deeper. I run against the escalator chasing backward after the scenes, only to find myself pulled away, and newly distracted by the next scenes.

I become captivated by faces depicting every expression and emotion possible. I am absorbed by how close these scenes feel, how alive they feel. Each face probes something in me trying to find out from where I know them.

There is the sense that all of the landscapes, creatures and humans exist as one substance, as simple as having been birthed from one medium. As in paint. Yet, it isn't just paint that is their common denominator. It is like paint, as it holds within it the same potential to create by arranging variables of color and contour, but it is alive; a force birthing these creations, and sustaining them, and yet as simple and benign as paint.

This force is also at the heart of the action in the scenes, creating another integral layer above color and form: the rich web of story. And this force is responsible for creating defining, relating, relevance.

In each expression, each movement, this energy births the story, and it exists only as a result of being read by the entire creative web it has created.

After a while, I sit, no longer chasing the scenes, riding in quiet down the escalator. This force is what I become most aware of--this energy that rides with me, that surrounds me, that permeates, that is.

And the murals begin to fade into a starry galactic night. No more earthly landscapes, no more emotional terrain, no more ground to cover, no more birthing, defining, warring, or hiding, no more conquering, feasting, praying, f****ing.

The light of the stars becomes brighter, and there before me is painted a tree, growing up through the entire space, extending up into heights that I can no longer see, but only sense now. It is the most beautiful tree I've ever seen, depicting every season simultaneously, as it extends through time.

Fiery roots grow deep into the earth, and its branches bow and stretch into eternity.

I am mesmerized by its power, and I am grounded in its magnificence.

I sense a power within me that rises up with the tree.

The light around me becomes golden and so dense that I can hold it in my hands and mold it.

I lose all sight of the end of the tunnel. I no longer care about arriving at the exit.

I feel a knowing and a remembering, with no words, no pictures, and no sound; nothing that I can identify as part of my physical experience; only a profound feeling of being home, but unlike any home I've ever known. I am home, and I am home, all at the same time.

The walls crumble and the stairs melt beneath my feet, but the light keeps me suspended, until all that holds me has fallen away and nothing remains except darkness and light.

I expand beyond my physical limitations, without any edges.

I am the space, swimming through euphoria.

I am everything. I am nothing.


  1. Love how these writings are centered on the senses, physical and metaphysical. Right on, write on!

  2. "And the murals begin to fade into a starry galactic night. No more earthly landscapes, no more emotional terrain, no more ground to cover, no more birthing, defining, warring, or hiding, no more conquering, feasting, praying, fucking."

    The way you put words together always leaves me in awe. Such a feast for the senses. The above words reached out and grabbed hold of me.

    Thank you for sharing your gift.

    Keep writing, keep writing!

  3. Just got caught up, love you!!! Thank you for sharing glimpses into your magical world of story!!!

  4. Hey... just playing 'catch up' after being transported here via a 'winding road'!
    Completely smitten..... loooooove this! The depth and richness is awesome on sooo many levels.
    thank you!
    Hugs xxxx

  5. Oh Brooke... honestly, you ought to be published. This is writing so good that I can't wait to read the next line, that i have to forcibly slow myself down, so that I can take in each delicious word. I am you, on the escalator, and your words are the images in the mural.

    Thank you... xxx


Post a Comment

♥ Thank you for taking the time connect with me here. ♥

Popular posts from this blog

RIP Poltergeist

After over ten years of an incredibly intense journey as a seeker, I find myself lying fallow. Taking a rest. When I first discovered this uncomfortable fact — threat to the hamster wheel that was my spiritual rat race, I surrendered for dead, but something wouldn’t let that fact sit as truth. I was lying fallow, but this implied that after a good rest, fruit could follow. This had nothing to do with death.

I am humbled at the courage it takes to write. For many years I kept a blog read by only a handful of very supportive people, and you’d think that after sharing writing for so long with perfect strangers, writing would have gotten easier. Actually, it got harder. In fact, at one point I was so paralyzed, I just stopped writing altogether. It was just too vulnerable. There was no trust there anymore, and I attributed any courage I had had to my youthful ignorance.

However, life continues, as it inevitably does, and there is still this pang to write, and it grows stronger and strong…


Another painting I loved making. I had so much fun just layering paint and swirling about.

Adventure has been a big part of my world as of late. In fact, writing this after a long day of skiiing. Where I used to shy away from leaving the house, I've been doing the opposite. Finally really getting to know my beautiful state and bask in its beauty-- hiking to the top of many peaks--sometimes limping the last stretches back to the car. Took my girls camping on the beach without a 'man'  and was so proud when I got the campfire started multiple times. The girls had their doubts I could do it. It was nice to prove them wrong! My most favorite was the day I drove 5 hours to the closest passport office on a wing and a prayer to get a same-day passport (wing and a prayer because they tell you you can drive all that way, but that there is no guarantee they can/will help you) so I could accept an invitation to see the woman's soccer world cup, and within a week was in Vancouver…

All for one and one for all...

“All for one and one for all.” 
― Alexandre DumasThe Three Musketeers
I thought I would bid farewell to these 29 days with me and my girls taking in the sunset atop one of my favorite views.

This was drawn at a time when our little threesome became my sense of home and identity, and having these little ones, now big, by my side has given my life meaning and purpose, and has changed me in every way that is good.

This is how I want to go out, in the end, like watching the sunset with my girls--feeling the warm glow casting itself around the valley, lighting up eyelashes and strands of angel hair, until the light recedes and is no more.

Thank you to those who joined me on this journey. The gifts have been all mine-- to share my creations and to be met with such tender love and kindness. I honor you all as fellow creators and humans on the journey. It is a joy to call you friends.

I can't wait to be on the receiving end of your creations, and to keep a life-long sharing of our hearts…