transformation

hush again

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It’s very particular to do walk towards another summit so soon after the last one.

In a way I have rarely experienced, the thrill of joy from the first summit is making even the weary days towards the second one more delightful and with less doubt and will-I-make-it hesitation.

I somehow feel that it has been set up this way; that he joy of the first summit was designed all along to propel me to the second, perhaps more complex summit. Pause. Definitely more complex.

Today it’s sunny for the first time in over a week. It’s beautiful in the studio with the pink roses given by a friend dotted around, showing signs of love and support.

I’m waiting for the afternoon to tell me how to live it. Tomorrow is another big day, and it’s the last day in this studio, requiring also dismantling all my work and moving it all, before it will be truly completed.

There is a beautiful kind of hush in the room… it feels like the stillness before something extraordinary occurs.

Which it is.

edge, rim, shore

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I’m teetering
again
on the rim
or edge
threshold,
shore.
I’m not quite

a lure
a calling,
I’m being,
no, not forced
invited
drawn

All at once
the future
arrives to me
here
in this moment
now
shall I?

Will I?

Joy jostles
wildly
with my
wildest fears,
wild dreams
wilder than I know
can possibly know
bewildered
oh afraid oh
enticed oh
enraptured
oh, shall I?
do this
step off into
an unknown future
with you?

will you catch me?
will you?

I’m coming

Note: This poem continues the series of piano painting poems inspired by the music of Ludvico Einaudi’s Divenire, played by myself on the grand piano of my downstairs neighbours. Unlike the other poems in the series it was created before the painting, and was a path into the courage to face a new blank page and enter into the vulnerability of creating in the unknown.

a glimpse of the summit – quiet

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I am getting nearer.

I have been through the exhilation of glimpsing arrival, ferocious discipline, the last reserves of patience, and now a quiet has fallen into me.

There is still quite a long list, but I can only work my way through it steadily. Some things might not get done. None may assume the right to cause panic.

Yesterday my disintegration met a friends disappointments. It was painful. I needing a bolstering of hope and instead I felt dropped. Forgive, forgive. This work is tiring to one’s friends; all summits bring up unresolved desolations. Continuing on with love is how we touch them with grace, how we heal each other.

If I work gently and steadily, I will arrive.

a glimpse of the summit – discipline

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I’ve glimpsed the summit, and yet I’ve not reached the summit. This is a moment where discipline seems somewhat unwelcome, yet it is essential.

Who wants to be disciplined when one can see dreams unfolding ahead, just beyond the summit in the realms of now-a-possibility?

Yet if the energy needed for the summit completion is dispersed into illusions, then the very possibility of the summit comes under threat.

It’s a work of wonder to hold steady with focus, diligence and discipline when under the surface thrills of delight are shivering too and fro in the inner waters.

It is strange that even this bit has its own difficulties and temptations, when so much hope and joy is present. But it does. You have not reached the summit until you have reached the summit.

Yesterday: lists. Today: chores, communications, work.

a glimpse of the summit

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I will make it.

I’m not there yet, I’m not nearly there, but something has arrived within me, ahead.

Certainty.

It’s hard to put the feeling of it into words, but it is deep, a plunging power of thrill, resolution, satisfaction and desire.

Yesterday evening as I wrote to a friend I recalled a theory from my research; in a moment, I could see exactly where I was, and exactly where I was about to be.

In the writing of one of my favourite mountaineers, there are sometimes climbs where this sudden advance knowledge arrives. It’s mysterious as it does not always occur. But when it does, it contains a thrill of power and hope which cannot be concocted. Even more mysteriously, sometimes it is this very power and hope which actually enable the achievement; without that vital last shot of energy, it might never have been reached.

It is also something to take care of. The thrill of certainty carries its own risk of intoxication by euphoria. The very relief can make one careless. The precious substance of conviction needs itself to be channeled into ways both focused and diligent, to enable it to fulfil its own promise.

Today: lists.