The Vortex

Cap Corse Corsica2.jpg

The Vortex

A powerful force
pulls you in.
in an endless tunnel.
No bottom
to stand on.
No end
for rest.
Only flecks
of light
catch your eye
as you spin
and around.
Your arms reach
for certainty.
Your hands
to something.
Unsure what.
out of control.
So fast
there’s an illusion
of smoothness.
Jagged edges
cut you
as you fall
further in.
You rip
into pieces
Part of you
you hear stories.
They are lies.
You try
to cover your ears.
Despite your repetitive
calming mantra,
the hurricane
Your fear
falls like punches
against steel.
You can’t break free.

Thankfully, I don’t get sucked into the vortex very often. But, I do. And, when I’m in it, try as I may, I go days unable to get out…rumination, sleepless nights, low self-esteem. The light that I know lives within me has trouble shining through the spinning. What gives me hope is that I know I’ve made it out before. And that whatever sucked me in will lose its grip on me and fade from my memory. The darkness passes. That’s the hope that sits like a seed inside of me when the vortex takes me away.

* I took this photo on Cap Corse, Corsica



San Agustinillo (2)


Not seeing the way.
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.
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