Lost

Lost

Wandering.
Not seeing the way.
Looking.
Desperately seeking
a path out.
To the other side
of this place.
This thing
that I cannot
figure out.
Despite the light
shining in,
it seems so dark,
Utterly empty.
Alone in the middle
of nowhere.
Spinning.
Getting dizzy.
From the corner
of my eyes
scanning for the exit.
Not even sure there is
some place I should be going.

Mostly when I think of possibility, it comes from a positive, pleasant place. My life experience has shown me that possibility can emerge from dark places, too. (I captured a darker chapter of my life on Mostly My Heart Sings.) The key for me has been to sit in the darkness, not ignore it or run from it, just be with it, and, when possible, befriend it. In so doing, often its grip is released and something new moves in.

When pulling together And Then Opens Possibility, I wasn’t sure about including the second chapter, “Into the Deep”, or at least about how deep to go. Some of my early reviewers said it felt like too much and were reluctant to include some of the darkest works. No, it’s not easy to sit in the darkness – however, doing just that was transformative for me so I yielded to the depths of my feelings.

While I have a long, long way to go, I feel that I’ve become more accepting of negative, imperfect, ugly and painful experiences. I continue to find that by opening to them, I often find a way to let them go more easily.

* I took this photo on Playa Rinconcito, San Agustinillo, Oaxaca, Mexico