Archive for February, 2009

mercy  panic  fantastic  culmination  ardent  flatline  ridge  busy trunk  card  rim  transient  burr  formerly

The power has us. Intoxicated, we can’t look away, can’t let go. It changes us. It draws us in and holds us hostage. It can simultaneously suffocate and resuscitate, bolster and make vulnerable, enshroud and illuminate. We are at its mercy and we can either panic at the effect the power has over us or we can embrace it as one of the few real clues we have to what it means to feel alive. A fantastic culmination, a cataclysmic beginning, and an unchangeable ending at the same time to many ardent feelings we never could have imagined in our heretofore flatline world of emotion. And yet as we move beyond the indescribable aura of its newness and settle into the calm security of our understanding it’s as though we have crested a ridge and caught the first glimpse of undiscovered country, busy with life, yet pristine, and perfect. But we never arrive empty handed; there is always something we take with us: a knapsack, a trunk, or a truckload. Either way, the power is both our calling card and the beacon that guides us. It steadies us as we crest that ridge and walk the canyon rim with magnificence stretching out before us in every direction. We must step carefully because the power can be transient. One wrong step and it can leave just as quickly as it arrived. But it’s a trick, you see, because even though it seems like it’s gone, it never is. It’s like a burr in your favorite sweater, it never goes away completely. Just as we can never return to the life we formerly knew. It’s gone. The power has taken it and given us something new in its place. It’s what love does to us.

photo by Steve Salow. All Rights Reserved.

…for Jule B. Lindemann…

A stir of the wind,

A rustle of leaves,

A sprinkle of rain,

All at ease,

A chime of a clock,

A purr of your cat,

All one in peaceful sleep.

-Kathleen Schau is the author of this post