Skip to main content

Wrong Turns

Okay, I don't know where to begin, so, I am just beginning somewhere.

I thought I completely understood what turning the lights out on Wild Road meant, and what arriving here on this blog was about.

I didn't.

I tried to put it in a box.

It wouldn't fit.

I am opening up the box and stepping out of it.

What wants to be expressed here, doesn't want to be wrangled or corralled.

I surrender.

I am listening to a voice that says show up and create in the moment. Let this be the plot that unfolds. Let it run in torrents. Let it trickle. Let it  unfold with each melody. Let it embrace form when it wants to, let it defy it at times. Let it feel stuck if need be. Let it need rules, and then abandon them just for fun. 


Just do your best to keep it wide open, aware of the workings of a mind that would try to box it in, define, artificially fabricate. 


Trust what you've presented already, but feel into the freedom that birthed this whole operation, and step outside the box-- better yet, realize there was never any box! Embrace what wants to be multi-dimensional, messy, and a rich expression of your heart and your experience. 


I let go of my backseat-driving mind, that has obnoxiously hailed wrong turns! Yes, I let go of this with ease. There have been too many times lately where I have ended up in the right places, literally and figuratively, despite supposed wrong turns. Which I guess, makes them right!

Gently, whatever Forces that be, have been showing me how to expand my vision beyond what I can pin down.

It has left me quieter lately-- mostly mesmerized by atoms spinning around me, in a sacred orchestration that I couldn't even begin to compose.

I've merely wanted to sit back and watch, listen, taste, smell, feel.

So filled to the brim with awe, I am unsure I can express it, and yet, I know I must try.

My arrival here did herald a carving of sorts, but I am merely a passenger, whether I think I am driving or not.

Comments

  1. "I am opening up the box and stepping out of it."

    Yippee! I love this...I can see you stepping out now, such a lovely site. And to taking wrong turns that turn out to be just right. To all of it!

    Raising my coffee cup to you now, dear Brooke!

    ReplyDelete
  2. in awe of every post you create... trusting that someday i'll be able to express the whirling mess in my head with even a fraction of the grace you display.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Brooke...

    I love you! I love how you're so present with what's happening in your mind, and how beautifully you express it (Kelli, your words are beautifully graceful and expressive, too!).

    "Let it run in torrents. Let it trickle. Let it unfold with each melody"... YES!

    Thank you
    xx

    ReplyDelete
  4. I can totally feel you on blog boxes. I've tried to put myself in a blog box but I can not seem to stay there. I am like you trying to explore and find out what this is all about. Love this line:"show up and create in the moment. Let this be the plot that unfolds. Let it run in torrents. Let it trickle. Let it unfold with each melody. Let it embrace form when it wants to, let it defy it at times. Let it feel stuck if need be. Let it need rules, and then abandon them just for fun"

    ReplyDelete
  5. Glad to be a passenger on this journey!

    ReplyDelete

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…

Here With You

Photo by Daria Obymaha on Pexels.com
Sinking lips into your tiny round cheeks, I'm home. Holding your tiny head to my heart, caressing my chin to your downy baby 'chicken fluff' we'll come to call it later, I'm home. Taking in your baby magic scent, I'm home. Pressing nose to nose, forehead to forehead, staring wide-eyed into each other's eyes, I'm home. Toting little bum and dangling legs around my middle, I'm home. Filled with purpose as you point where to go, what you see, I'm home. Your eyes, new windows to a world I thought I knew, I'm home. Holding you with fever, picking you up when you fall, I'm home. Navigating the years between, boxes of your firsts, every paint brush and pen stroke a miracle, I'm home. Saving pottery penguins, turtles, shiny red roses, a burrito with all the fixings immortalized in clay, I'm home. Kid sister fruit and craft stand on the corner, change clinking in coin purse, magic for the neighborhood…

Storyholder

Photo by Ben Herbert on Pexels.com

I’m standing on a cliff overlooking the water’s edge. The sky is present, hanging there in its vastness, holding this moment with symphonic strains of gray and electric buzz. Watching, suspended, sensing.

I see to both sides of me vast white cliffs carved out by relentless grasping of the ocean extending down the coastline.

The earth where I am standing up above gives just the right yield and welcome, with its soft grass and dainty yellow flowers, falsely giving the impression of delicacy, when anyone can see that they are hardy to withstand the harshness of forces here.

There is an undeniable tightness of gravity here, pinning me down, tugging at me, slowing down my step. I feel as if this force could just sweep me away with the littlest of a flick, like an ant off the table. It screams danger while it beckons.

My life had been recently taking on new grander design dimensions when this place and I met. Dating a new man, after being a single mom for…