Monthly Archives: January 2013

#SmallStone: Day 16

Dreaming

redroses

I dreamed a small stone last night. Entering the kitchen of my childhood home, I see the countertop is covered with white orchids and all sizes of deep red roses. The way the sunlight was falling on them, the shadows it cast made me gasp. For a moment I was stopped, frozen by the beauty, standing completely still in awe and wonder, thinking to myself inside this dream that I didn’t know was a dream, “how could this even be real?”

Then I realized I needed to capture this moment, this small stone, so I rushed to find a camera, which led to the kind of confused, lost searching that so often happens in dreams. By the time I came back to the kitchen with a camera, the sun was gone and the room was dark, the moment had passed, captured only in memory, lived only in a dream.

Six Words Can’t Possibly Contain Her

This week, I started a new class, The Story of You. One of the first prompts was to write a six-word memoir. I love the six word practice, did 41 days of it. Here’s what I wrote this morning.
scribble

Her story started small, and simple.
Once it got moving, it bloomed.
She couldn’t stop it, wouldn’t try.

Here’s where it started, the beginning.
Six words can’t possibly contain her.
And yet, she strings them together.
Making elaborate mandalas, constructing a life.

Her material? Dirt, breath, and longing.
At some point, words catch fire.
Other times, tears will dissolve them.
Sometimes, she smashes them to bits.
None of it will hang together.

Until one day, she lets go.
Brutal, beautiful: she opens her heart.
Tender, terrible: she keeps it open.
Having abandoned both hope and fear.

Life as practice, she shows up.
Raw and brave, she finally surrenders.
Open, tender-hearted warrior learns to stay.
What is next? Anything is possible.

Six words can’t possibly contain her.