Peace like a river. After the burning of Valhalla, the Rhine surges its banks and brings everything back to a gentle equilibrium. Sometimes I feel like I’ve burned out on the passions of the world and slipped into the calm of old age and wisdom….and then the flames flicker under the surface, and I dive into the drama with an eagerness that mystifies me. Why do I want to go there? Is it my ego grasping for some thrill ride? Beginnings and endings are often infused with heightened emotion, even and maybe especially in the recollection of them. There’s an excitement to those feelings that can be addictive. I wallow in the concept of new love and the tearful goodbyes. And then I get a headache and puffy eyes and wonder why I’m so masochistic. I blame hormones. And social traditions like Valentine’s Day.
I appreciate my partner and the safe but challenging environment he creates. He asks me what I’m feeling and waits patiently while I try to fashion words from the vulnerable soup of my damp thoughts. I am learning to be aware of myself, my cyclical moods and intractable psychological baggage. He senses when I’m “stuck” and when I’m “flowing”. And so, I dedicate this photo to him:
Thanks, Steve, for your compassion.
That’s a lovely dedication for Steve, Scilla.. and the picture fits it perfectly..
I love “a vulnerable soup of damp thoughts”. Lovely post.