I’ve been thinking a lot about transitions lately. Those thresholds, cusps, cracks, that make us jump, stumble, stop, that bring us fear, joy, hope.
The old dog, ready to go. On the floor with her, hands on her, arms around her, tears in her fur, as she transitions.
Hair. Once red. Lost to radiation. Lost to grief. Came back each time, which is a metaphor for life, isn’t it? And now, transitioning to the color of age.
A friend, preparing. Giving us poems and stories and songs to hold for later. Us, standing on the edge of a lake, raising a glass, as the friend steps over that threshold.
Summer, slipping into coolness and rain and snow.
Trees, getting ready to let go.
Spiders, getting ready to hang on.
It strikes me that right now, my life is surrounded by transitions that have been difficult. I have to pause and work at finding positive changes.
The son, moving on to the next stage in his life and me, hoping.
Reclaiming my writing space, hoping the words will be there. Making the same space usable for friends, hoping they will be there.
Definitely a positive for me, waiting for the return of rain.
Finishing a book and starting a new one. Leaving one world for another.
Me, hoping again, the new gray hair will transition to something dramatic, like big stripes on each side.
Transitions are just endings and beginnings. Nothing new or profound there, but still, something to remember. A beginning is an ending and an ending is a beginning.
In the meantime, I will step outside and listen, hoping to hear the owl in the night singing the path as our friend begins something new, without us.
And me, out there waiting for the wind to bring the rain.
Lisa Stowe - The Story River Blog 
Sigh of satisfaction – LOVE esp that last pix Pat Larson
silversheen1@gmail.com PHONE: 425-298-9431 (please leave a voice message)
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Thanks, Pat! Miss you.
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Wow
Pure poetry Lisa
I am pondering transitions so much these days, in my life, in my work.
Time to stop and pause a moment and let it all sink in I think, but the pause has to be self inflicted because time doesn’t stop moving forward while I seek to incorporate all the change that the march of time brings.
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It’s hard to pause, isn’t it? I tried this weekend to slow things down, to pause as I gathered dog paraphernalia, to honor the transition, I guess. Or to go outside and pause to feel the transition of seasons. Went for a walk up into the burn and there are so many transitions there, not just slowing down for the coming fall, but oddly, all the new life coming back so you’d think it was spring rather than nature healing.
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Lovely. I love that last line. As life moves on, listening during transitions becomes so important.
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Yes! That’s so true. Listening and being aware of what is put before us.
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So good. It feels like I notice transitions much more now that I’m older. I hope your gray is coming in like you wished. I’m getting used to mine, another transition.
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When I’m fully gray I intend to do what a 90 year-old family member does – change the fluorescent colors to match her mood.
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Ooo I can’t wait to see that!
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Nature helps us to accept the impermanence of things and the flow of the universe. And to feel the wisdom behind it all. These liminal phases and times, like twilight and dawn, and very special. They are meaningful – sometimes too meaningful to bear. The razors edge between the past and future – this very moment – is where we spend our whole life…
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I somehow missed this response so I apologize for the delay. Thank you for your words. Nature does help us accept impermanence.
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