Holy morning.
All is calm.
All is bright.
I walk over the footbridge because it just so damn beautiful. Time slows as I scan 360 degrees and up and down. The stars above shine brightly, calmly, and offer hope for peace. The dark, jagged ice way below is foreboding. The long shadows of frazzle ice scare me and yet draw me in like a child peeking at a horror movie for the first time. Good and evil personified. The contrast of hope and fear, brightness and darkness, jaggedness and calmness, is intoxicating. I am humbled in this moment, this paradox of life. I am, for a moment, at peace, yet fearful of what could be.
I search for words to anchor this time, to hold it as though time were a tangible commodity. I know this moment will fade, it always fades. We try to hold these moments of time, to tuck them in our back pockets for consumption at a later time, but they fade. We are left only with memories of time, memories of that beauty, that moment, that perfection. Mercifully, the memories sustain us. Thank be to to all of you for these memories.
All is calm, all is bright on this Winter Solstice morning.
Aboriginal tradition teach us the path to peace. We must share our greetings, our names, our food, and then we must share our stories. We have much to learn from Aboriginal tradition and much to share.
Greetings and welcome.
My name is Mike.
This blog is my story.
I wish you happiness.
I wish you peace.
I wish you calm.
I wish you bright.
I wish you silent mornings and silent nights.
Long may you run.
It's a good day to be alive.
Mike
A note on the photographs. I sent this blog post to Greg McNeill asking if he had any stock pictures that would be suitable to accompany the storyline. He replied by suggesting a photo shoot to customize the pictures to the story. We met this morning a little after 7:00 AM. These are some of his pictures. Feeling kinda Hollywood-super-star-like! Thanks Greg, you are too cool for words. Uncle Mike