Apparently, when there is too much orderly tought, we are rigid, not creative, yet the opposite, scattered energy too haphazard, is not useful either - nothing sticks or persists. But where order and disorder meet and interlace, in the liminal space of ambiguity, creativity lives, just on the edge of chaos.
One more request to the mountain (Taos)
my hunger for mountains could be a hunger for mother love the Ma of existence, the One mother shadow play of leaves on the stucco wall reaching, touching, rubbing against each other's shadow the way twenty-five women in a room see themselves in each other's shadows and cannot easily see their own without a mirror but when one opens her heart and speaks, it brings tears to 25 pairs of eyes
We have all considered not sharing our visions, our goals, affirmations and dreams but when one of us does, it feeds all of our souls like leaf shadows playing on the wall feeds a need for beauty, art, music in my soul that gentle play.
there are other shadows, dark clouds leaving the mountain in darkness, that feel more like waking in the pitch black of 4 am after a bad dream, aware that monsters and demons exist, and although in theory I know it is merely a shadow, I still shiver a little.
note to self: embrace the physics of cloudiness stop rearranging the furniture