Gathering Vanishing Days [David’s blog on KS Friday]

“Many of us have made our world so familiar that we do not see it anymore. An interesting question to ask yourself at night is, What did I really see this day?” ~ John O’Donohue, Anam Cara

This week our world is a big as our sunroom. The Dogga is ill and we are with him constantly. I pet him and he sleeps. While he sleeps I look out the window. Breck the aspen tree quakes. Finches alight in the small branch outside the window. They look in, visitors to the people zoo. I look back and am amused at what they see. The autumn light in the backyard is startling.

I realize that in many ways the world has stopped – or at the very least time has slowed. This is unfamiliar territory. Even the room is novel, rearranged, piled with soft rugs and gated for Dogga containment. It has become a cradle of sorts. All of our life patterns are altered. We are making it up as we go. In this unexplored landscape I can see again. Every breath. Every leaf that drops.

I am not trying to be anywhere else. I am exactly where I want to be, doing the most important thing I can imagine doing. I am not bored or feeling trapped. Quite the opposite. I wonder how often this has been true in my life?

John O’Donohue sits by my side. He tells me, “Your soul is the priestess of memory, selecting, sifting, and ultimately gathering your vanishing days toward presence.”

Dwight recently asked a question, “What is the wake I am leaving as I navigate work, my family, uh.. the airport, etc.?” I rearrange the image within his question: what is the ripple I send from my pebble-center that will all too soon disappear, a disturbance in the water returning to mirror calm?

A haiku: Dogga lifts his head. His tail wags a single wag. My heart knows itself.

WHEN THE FOG LIFTS on the album THIS PART OF THE JOURNEY © 1998 Kerri Sherwood

Kerri’s albums are available on iTunes or streaming on Pandora

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE FOG

likesharecommentsupport.thankyou.

Leave a Reply