Huge moon lights my world this morning.
I swear it’s these mornings when in such silence the depth of the world is found in surrounding snow covered peaks glowing in the moonlight that allow, if not develop, the profundity of my own thought and imagination.
I read a quote yesterday – in Western Horseman magazine of all place, written by Joel Nelson, a wonderful cowboy poet – which holds true for any artist, scientist or philosopher:
“You must allow yourself the luxury of thinking deeply. To be a great artist, you have to submit to the muse.”
Ah, my muse! The mountain!
My son writes last night (or early this morning as the case may be for a nineteen year old caught in the throes of college) he’s looking forward to returning to Colorado though he is enjoying British Columbia and his university.
He says, “… seldom it is the place that’s special.”
For years I tried to convince myself the same because of a deep rift between my intense love for my family, home and mountain here and the accrual of painful conflicts surrounding us.
“Seldom… but sometimes… the place is special.
I think perhaps it is possible to be in love with the land. Have a dazzling, passionate relationship. And then, even, if we work at it, settle into a long lasting love.
In any case, a place is as special as we make it, as we hold it to be in our hearts, and in balance with the positive energy we put into it. There again, just like a relationship of people…
Hmmm… interesting to consider. I need to ponder this one more….”
I am in love. Madly, wildly, passionately, and at the same time, settling into to the commitment of long term.
A good place to be.