The Partnership in Education
anxiety, Living, Survival

A Day Such as This

On absolutely amazing days like this, when the air moving around you feels like the wind’s caress, the pockets of sun and shade dance across the ground as the leaves move, your very skin feeling lighter and less oppressive.  On a day such as this, which you can’t even imagine in the dark dank days of winter – how can the horrors of the world coexist? 

Thoughts of war, cancer, needless violence, anorexia and body dysmorphia, seizures and convulsions, burns and heartache, loneliness, listlessness. . . how can all these exist on a day such as this? 

When some unnameable something grips your head and heart, a firm and gradual tightening of the vice.  When everything around you says, be well, enjoy – and your brain clamps down. 

It must be for times such as these that the 5-4-3-2-1 grounding technique was created. 

But I’m not in acute stress.  And when I’m done counting and grounding, the things that wound me up will still be there. 

I am living my low-level constant state of anxiety that seems to be this season of life – with friends more like family and family who need support and kids who need parents no matter what age they are.  With health scares and inconsistent schedules and interrupted sleep. 

On a day such as this, I need to sit right down in the center of it and soak it in.  If only I could exist there. 

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Legacy, Living

Dust Echoes

The universe has sent me a thing of beauty just when I needed it.

Searching for an image to accompany my previous post, I came across this logo:

dust echoes

Given my explanation of dust as a metaphor for all that piles up in one’s mind, I found it an apt illustration – but I was curious as to its creator’s views on the subject.  Clicking on the link, I found this amazing website.  A project of Tom E. Lewis, Dust Echoes offers animated shorts from then emerging Australian animators, depicting touchstone stories of Aboriginal culture.  The homepage itself is a story, drawing viewers right into the landscape.  Aimed at engaging young people in the rich traditions and history of the Aboriginal people, it is a visual and auditory treat for people of any age.

So, in answer to my question, the creators of this graphic had totally different views on the idea of dust echoing.  They helped me see that there is great value in hearing echoes of the past and transmitting them to future generations.

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Living, Photography

Scenes from September 11

I had some quiet moments by myself as the sun set this evening.  A somber day, but the calls of playing children wafted in on the wind.  A sliver of moon rose above the trees.  The quiet thrum of life buzzed all around.

Long may she wave . . .

Long may she wave . . .

Knowledge is power no matter the time or place

Knowledge is power no matter the time or place

Wisdom stands sentinel

Wisdom stands sentinel

After each dusk, comes a dawn

After each dusk, comes a dawn

 

 

 

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Living, Poetry

Agony in the Garden of Life

There is beauty in agony.

The angle of the fading sun spotlighting horses on a hill

The absence of pain between excruciating contractions

The way the air is sucked out of the room as the ailing takes her last breath

The chances, possibilities

      that never existed when there was no pain,

      no reason to take risks,

      Only a stasis that lured us into settling.

    There is no proverbial gain without the pain.

    Acute, clarifying, sharp —

      We never want it, but would stay the same without it.

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    Living, Poetry, Spirituality, Writing

    Crystalline

    The country road I drove down this morning looked magical.

    A feathered path down its middle where the few cars had passed.

    A vortex of flakes pulling me through the windshield.

    Boulders, trees, leaves touched by a light dusting.

    The magic messed with by industrial orange dump trucks spewing their salt,

    but reemerging in a parking lot, of all places.

    A perfectly formed star pulled from the sky and placed on the fleece forest of my glove.

    Another and another.

    In relief against the black rubber strip of my car,snowflakes

    the honey colored curls of my daughter,

    the harsh, manipulative world we live in.

    A tiny reminder of

    the awesome, wondrously made world we sometimes forget we live in.

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