Deep peace of the quiet earth to you. 

Endless and self-renewing.

October 11, 2018


It seems that I've been uncertain of my place in the world of late, and rather than taking the proverbial bull by the horns and asserting my inherited--and, surely, inherent--strength, I've been running and reacting. I wonder when we learned this? I wonder when we learned that we cannot be the mistresses of our own destiny because and because and because? 


Certainly I never learned this cowering, this less-than, this helplessness from my own mother, a fierce woman in her own right who takes no shite from anyone (nor does she take no as an answer--she's very persuasive). I suppose I could cast blame widely and loudly--peers, teachers, media--and it would hit a target, but to what end? And, really, what does it matter now? 


What matters is only to wake up from the ridiculous delusion that we are not only powerless, but *at the mercy of.* That's it, isn't it? That's the scary bit, the beguilingly attractive bit--to put oneself at the mercy of x or y. We're "saved" from making hard choices, from taking any responsibility for our lives, but we lose our hard-won autonomy, our stunning uniqueness, and our in-born ability to take no shite from anyone.  




Please reload

This Quiet Earth