my horses hiding the thunderstorm
Years ago, I was having a tough time at one point. Really tough. So much so that I couldn’t make sense of what was going on.
It’s times like that – midst confusion and darkness – that truth stands out like a shaft of light. So, I vividly recall my sister Nin walking with me down to the water’s edge in Maine during a full moon. Her words to me:
“It doesn’t matter if you understand what’s happening or not. The tides come in and the tides go out. The only thing that matters is that one thing is attracted to another. That’s all there is. That’s all that matters.” Nin tells me she doesn’t recall this moment. These words. But they were so simple and clear at that moment that I will never forget.
And yes, the tide does come in. All summer. People people people. A slight lull/out. And then Ariella has been here.
She’s on a short trip now for – is it three days? But it’s almost irrelevant. The tide goes out. She comes back. It’s in again.
Once the seasons shift, or perhaps if I move to a place with more people, different “tides” will occur.
But we are water. So much of us. And we are attracted to one another. And we do: we come and go. Literally and also, at times, emotionally.