Nothing to hold on to
Last week, amid three days of heavy rains and storm, the cloud cover that had enveloped our peninsula dispersed suddenly at dusk, long enough for me to take the photo below. Something about the fierce, restless fire in the fleeting clouds. The elusive, watery light. This random beauty. Nothing to hold on to but rapid, inevitable change.
A man drove into our muddy yard in an enormous truck just then, dragging a trailer with kiawe posts. He looked disheartened, lost. He stared at the mud. Without thinking, I said to this stranger, "Look at the sky!" He did, and he smiled. Maybe, maybe, he felt a little less lost. I'll never know. It doesn't matter. Nothing to hold on to. Beauty nevertheless.
Recently someone sent me this powerful message: "When a ship is in harbor and moored, it is safe, there can be no doubt. But that is not what great ships are built for." It was written by Clarissa Pinkola Estes, many years ago. The fierce, restless sky, the rain, the ocean through which we must sail, and fantastic glimmers of beauty - it seems to me, this is our truth. Slivers of joy that carry us forth with great power.
Instead of a long post during this already busy holiday season, I wanted to simply share these two things with you.
And in gratitude to our wondrous journey, wherever it leads, sometimes seemingly alone, always interdependent, with respect and awe for the courage and commitment we share, with my whole heart I wish that each one of us may sail more fully into radiance, freedom and awareness this coming year. May you be you, may you be happy, may you experience clarity and enjoy life's wild oceans, may you live your own unique truth and beauty in confidence - whole, fulfilled, at ease.
Thank you each for your great support in 2016! Wishing you happy Holidays. And we will reconnect some time in January/February 2017. With much care, sophia.