The comfort of clouds

Intimacy is lost in the noise of chatter drowning out the rushing brown waters I hear only now in the wee hours as I step outside to soak in the chill of early morning silence. Mid day and everywhere I look there are people, signs of people, lights, motors, movement. I am used to being alone. The vast rift between alone and lonely. I am lonelier around people.

I no longer feel the mountain and long for the tender touch of falling snow which is the mountain as she allows herself to be, gives herself to me. I am lost in the walls of my own home, no longer mine as we move out once again. And yet somehow I feel lighter without the encumbrance of clinging, claiming. I am moving on, transforming, and that feels as good to say as it does to accept as I look around my world once again in boxes and shrug off the confusion, too busy still to focus on the future. Probably a good thing, as I am rather uncertain where that will lead.

A heavy grey sky hangs over our greening valley this morning, closing us in with the mountain. It does not burden but frees, providing a sense of place and space, completion, connection, a still peace.  For just a moment, I am allowed to slow down and do no more than breathe.

A contradiction to the pressures of the day.  And the day begins now.

2 thoughts on “The comfort of clouds

  1. One is lonelier around most people for they seem like a different species, unable to perceive the world that motivates us, deaf to the drum that we march to. That won’t change. They won’t learn to see or hear. Only one learns to find peace amongst them. One can learn, and one does. It’s a hard trail, the one that leads to personal wholeness in this broken world. Probably that’s a reason why so few of us try it.

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