Photo credit: Jason Williard (1983-2016)
I think I might be a hoarder, not of stuff, but ideas, words, knowledge.
I once met a hoarder. At the time, I didn't know what to call it. I was working as a Director of Mortgage Lending for a large financial institution. If a person got far enough behind on their mortgage, we had to inspect their home.
Every morning, I curl up on a big red overstuffed sofa and drink my morning latte'. I look out the window at the flowers and the trees beyond. These days this is my view through one of the bay windows. This morning a pair of hummingbirds were making their way through the garden. They've been here for a while now, enjoying the fruits of my labor. Their favorite flower is the crocosmia, the burst of red in the image.
What happens when a life is filled with death
when the blanket of grief lays over our days
when the sun no longer shines
and the waters flow continuously
What happens when we surrender
sleep when sleep wants to come
quit trying to force it into a container
move when we want to move
stop the incessant need to produce
cease the endless struggle
slip slowly into slumber
sit silently in surrender
sing songs of celebration