Path to Beauty
Path to Beauty
One more step.
The path is steep and
steeper still,
You could stop here.
Here, amongst the
broken rocks,
Fit the sand of self
into the cracks,
Sift down, down into
darkness.
One more step-
The path lifts to
nothing and nothing still,
You could stop here.
Here, fear will hold
you still,
Hope will push you on.
You, must, move – the path
will not.
One more step,
Under a sky stretched
blue and bluer still
You must stop to look,
Amongst the sand and
sun-jagged rocks,
Roots, push, down,
lifting leaves to green,
Impossibly, alive, on a
path to beauty.
Ruth Everson
Life is a bitch. There
are times when one more step, one more morning, one more week, seems
impossible. I have sat at the bottom of the dark hole of depression. I have, it
seems, spent a lifetime fighting with my own particular demons.
Recently, I have thought a lot
about a little story that I read a couple of years ago. I don’t remember its
author, so I can’t acknowledge it. A woman is drowning in the middle of a lake.
She is holding onto a large rock. From the shore, people are crying out to her
to drop the rock.
“Let it go, you’ll be
able to swim!”
“I can’t, it’s my rock,”
the woman replies.
To the onlookers, the
solution is simple, but for those of us who carry the rocks of hurt and fear,
it’s hard to let go.
Without hope, we cannot
take one more step. My salvation, always, has been the friends and family who
have chosen to love me at my most unlovable. Somewhere close to all of us, is
someone who feels unlovable. Stand in front of them on the path with your arms
outstretched; swim out into the lake. No one should sink on their own.
(The photograph was
taken by the talented Lynn Barbour.)
Thank you, Ruth. This year there are a number of my " littlies" battling with some real grown up stuff. And of course, my own stuff. This was a reminder that everyone's stuff is important to them . What a gift when people continue to love us when we are most unlovable. Mwah.
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