I’ve been keeping quiet again, taking in the world…the wonder and the pain. Watching thing die around me and believing there will be new life…holding onto hope. I will never live fall the same way again. It will always be death…wrapped in brilliant beauty….but still death.
I continue to stand at the cusp of something. I am not sure what it is or what it looks like. It is wholly and totally new to me. I cannot see the next step, but I know going back is not an option. I know what is easy and familiar, the call of guilt and responsibility….the unmet expectations….the assumptions of well meaning others…that somehow they understand, know what it is to be in this place…after a 10 minute conversation. It is all death, and I will not live there.
I will continue to follow the sound of a voice I once knew well…calling me forward out of the fog…the ash. Resting in the moments of beauty, and embracing the pain when it comes rather then turning from it.
We used to open our home for Soup Nights. Deep in the birth of the idea was to welcome other’s into our home to delight in one another and share a bit of peace over a simple meal. This dream was lost in the organization of the thing…in my deep clinging desire to do things just right…check some box of expectation…clean my house just so….was I ‘evangelizing’ enough? was I ‘doing’ enough? ‘Producing’ enough? It was never enough. It was death.
So we burnt it! To the ground! 2 years later what came back? Beauty. Peace. Hope. Love. Last Friday night our home was full of laughter. It was one of the most beautiful times I’ve had at the Ebed House. Nothing forced. No expectations. Just the invitation to come and be. This. This place in time…a moment. A glimpse. This is what we were made for. And I take one step further out of the fog…