(Author’s Note: The following is AV’s response to a meditative prompt offered on 1/18/2021, by a member of the writing group she belongs to. It is a 10-minute, raw (unedited) quick write, followed by a drawing she promised her writing Sisters at the Well. AV lives in California. Though it is a continent away from the US Capitol, the state of California is also prepared for upheaval. We are all trying to find our place of balance as the political world around us heaves like an earthquake.)
From the cave within, I see the ocean. The waves roll in…and out, matching my breath, washing away the detritus of anger from the glittering sand.
Why didn’t I think of coming here earlier?
This cave reminds me of life as Homo erectus, a time when hominids were territorial, before we became city builders. It seems we have returned to our brutish ways of late.
However, in this cave, I am safe. There is room for my family, which includes a tribe of people I love, people they love. There is room for any and all who need to come.
Here we have peace.
The ocean provides, in…out, in…out, bringing gifts, taking refuse. We’ve learned to be thankful for what it gives us. We’ve learned to be mindful of what we leave behind.
Sometimes I wish we could return to those simpler ways, to find
a way to make life quiet, attuned to the world around us. Sometimes…I wish.
But, I must find a way to look forward, past contrived dates, to what is beyond the horizon. A vessel of change is blowing this way. I can feel it. I just don’t see it.