I have a hole in my stomach. Down there, just above my hips, below my ribcage. Its an aching lead-coloured hole, the edge crabbed with anxiety.

So I write, because Trust is a discipline. I write because I will not let fear rule my life any longer.

Hope is medicine, and words are a release. I write so that I can, again, begin to Dream.

 

I'm flipping through the pictures on a website: a Mexican road, a Carribean sunset, spice markets in Marraketch. One day I'd like to walk through those spice markets, and feel the dust lap at my feet, and the sun beat warm against my back.

I'd like to feel the heat of the desert wind and see the vividity and clangour of colour all around me. To sit and watch the terracotta baked buildings stand against the blue blue sky... and let life seep back into me.

Slowly, slowly... through the shouts of the people, through the scent of the spices, through the heat and the space. The Vastness of the desert.

Space to breathe.

Space to be. Again.

 

And I'd like to sit in awe, on the shores of the sea, with a glorious sunset breaking in front of me. With clouds, and salt, and fresh sea air... and no buildings around to confine me. Just to be. To remember. To catch that spark, that passion, again...

To learn afresh that after the darkness there is a dawn. To see again that winter lasts not forever, to see in the sunset, again, the hope and promise of a sunrise.

To catch hope unfurling against the onset of the night.

To know this chapter is at an end.

 

And I'd like to walk down that Mexican road that curves against the mountains in the distance. Feel its roughness beneath my feet. Feel again. Not knowing where it goes. But walking it.

And to stand there looking forward as its curve is lost in the growth of brush, and look back over the trail behind.

And smile, and know again that though the road curves in the undergrowth, and I cannot see where it leads, that life is an adventure, and that my God has carried me safe thus far.

And will do so again.

 

 

 

 

- Covered In Rain, John Mayer [Any Given Thursday]