“There’s nothing to lose by writing your truth.” – Cynthia Morris
What’s true for you may be wildly untrue for someone else.
That’s what makes truth so very intriguing.
As I sit with today’s prompt Things rich and strange, snippets of my truth rise to the surface.
The deep green velvety moss I see on the trees. I run my fingers over it, surprised at the moisture, surprised by its determination to grow in sometimes challenging conditions.
The silence I recall from my last retreat, so deep I can feel it in my bones like an ancient gong. I try to recreate it but the depth and richness can not be captured.
The satisfaction of holding a secret close to my heart. It makes me smile at unexpected times, causing the people around me to question my state of mind.
The love I have for people no longer in my life. Their presence lingers like the smell of coffee in the morning, long after the cup has been drained.
The way the crows follow their internal knowing, every day like clockwork. They leave their western playground to return to their dark eastern home. Like one mind, they set off and leave inky tracks across the sky.
The connection I feel to people I have not met in person. It is wondrous this web that stretches across the world linking thoughts, feelings, ideas and human beings. Wondrous and strange.
The resistance I feel to life some days, when life has been so generous. Understanding doesn’t seem possible, so I let it be, trusting it will ebb like the tide.
The thought that I am more often being breathed than breathing.
* Inspired by Cynthia Morris’ Free Write Fling.