life and death

i love love this image of life, the labyrinth. you don’t know how long this process takes, and when you reach that circle of light in the middle and pass through it is into the great mystery.

we are one year now past my father’s heart attack. this makes me think how short a year is, and how limitless gratitude can be.

my great aunt just passed, reminding me that you can never know someone’s journey, but you can honor that it turns again and again. i wish that i could be with my family this week, listening to the memories and the love.

as i couldn’t go, this weekend i surprisingly ended up in the home of a writer i respect very much, surrounded by her massive collection of books. i have been a writer first and foremost in my life, along every turn, in every other kind of work, in every other experience, in the form of prose, song, poems, love letters, critiques, and 140-character missives from my mobile.

i think of this labyrinth as a series of steps, and the way i have written about my life has been my footprints. this might need to be my next tattoo. it’s definitely a tattoo on the timeline of my life – i have seen the shape on key days, at key moments and turning points in my life.

while the facts of my life are static at the moment, how i participate is shifting radically. no compromises – i feel something within me that is the guide right now, submit to community, submit to network, submit to what’s next.

i’m in the labyrinth. close to me, life and death. and i feel more fundamentally at peace by the moment.