I am still moving slowly and am beginning to feel better. I seemed to need a purge and so it came. I feel well-cleaned and cleansed.
I am aware this is the anniversary of the end of treatment. Actually it is May 17th, but I am absorbing that, and went back and perused the blog of last year at this time. Most interesting for me.
My morning poem today is on Esalen. I still haven't gone back to look at what emerged there. This is today, and today, for me, is still a day of rest.
“Be the trees
The ocean ripe with whales and kelp
The rock-stirred dreams.”
And so I sink deeply
to the bottom and keep going, going,
move on through to somewhere new.
Time isn’t held in hands or clock.
Account may be touched with the beat of a drum
but exploration opens out like beds of stars,
each light, held and blown
like dandelion heads
in the wind.