She tries to keep things divided and straight in her thoughts, but it seems she never can. Mud or lotus, black or white… they keep changing into each other. Society tells her it must be clear. There must be no compassion for wrong-doers (or perhaps a little, but only in theory); there must be no searching for wrong in her own soul to understand unspeakable harm that has been done to her. This means she must be crazy, in the eyes of society.
She thinks again of seeking professional help, but forbidding costs aside, worries that she’ll be made to feel even less free or safe than she feels now.
A grief yawns open inside her, when she allows herself to finally be truly alone, away from all human contact, digital or otherwise, for a short space of time. Layers of grief from various different events in her life, that have been pushed to the back of her mind.
The primary solace is go outside, under the broad and ever-changing example of Grand Sky; listen to the Tree, with its endless messages of unconditional love and understanding. Feel the Land continue to breathe beneath her footfall, forgiving her every step upon it.
Gratitude enters as a gradual light; or as a gift from these old friends. Its colour is pale, golden blue.
Nadine inhales & exhales words & images from current vantage point in Auvergne, France. Thank you for reading. ❤︎