A Lost World

marianne stokes

Artist – Marianne Stokes

The world is afloat on a cloud, a cold breath over everything, icing the trees, the ground, the grass. I lay in my bed and saw a white, glowing blanket outside my window, the moon coming through it.

I saw the sun for a moment, touching the mountains, but then it was gone, everything lost again to the mist, everything silent, everything frozen. Even the birds have no strength to sing now. They just stay among their branches, huddling in the winter chill.

There is magic in the mist. I saw it drifting across the forest yesterday, and thought of all the stories about it, about creatures appearing and disappearing in it. That it’s an entrance to a different time, a different world. 

I’m in a calm place, I read calming things, but I’m rarely calm myself. Perhaps that’s why I’ve come here, to see if some of the earth, the air can seep into me, give me some of that quiet frost. I’m learning to trust. That’s what I call it. I imagine what it would be like to walk through my day in trust, knowing I’m safe. Or at least feeling I’m safe, that there is nothing to worry about, to be agitated about, as though something might strike me at any moment. Maybe I felt that life betrayed me, fell out from under my feet, that the gods betrayed me, somehow. That I can’t trust them now, even though I want to.

Afternoon

I walked in the forest, in the early evening, when everything was a breath of blue and the sky had lines of gold in it. As I walked, I observed a joy inside of me that I feared, that I had hidden away. I hadn’t allowed myself to feel it because it might go away, might anger the gods, anger destiny if I allowed it to bubble up inside of me. Maybe I would set myself up to being hurt.

I thought also of my mom, then my sisters, how I felt I shouldn’t laugh and be happy when they were sick. No one told me I couldn’t be, but somehow it felt wrong. I suppose children learn things that are hidden beneath the surface, things left unsaid.

I thought of the Goddess and wondered if perhaps she was light and joy, and beautiful things and that maybe it would make her happy if I dared to step into it. For some reason, it wasn’t something I had considered she’d want for me. But sometimes I feel her laughing, shaking her head, as though I’m taking things too seriously.

I would like to walk with lightness in my steps, and not be afraid of trying, of failing. I would like a deep calm to enter me, deep in my bones, like that blue air that was all around in the forest, silvering the branches. I wanted to kneel and stay there, on the frozen ground, by the waterfall, like white lace down the mountain. I wanted to listen, for the earth to teach me something, but I wasn’t alone in the forest, and we had to get home in time for something. But that’s what I felt then. It’s what I still feel when I remember walking in that new winter world. I’m happy it’s here. 

2 Comments on A Lost World

  1. Laura
    November 27, 2015 at 8:06 am (3 years ago)

    I loved to read this. The mist is my favourite, and looking at the clouds being born in the mountain forests above the mists. Someone said it is related to the Goddess somehow, the mist. You should know that it’s calming to read your posts 🙂 But I know, it’s like reading about myself, being somewhere calm and yet feeling agitated.

    Yesterday I was walking and observing something similar within me. I looked at the clouds at the end of sunset and they were so beautiful and magical, and I could perceive joy somewhere, but I’ve blocked good feelings inside me somehow, like I can’t really feel it even if I try. Then I tried to be open to love, because I noticed I wait for love to rescue me but I have to let go of myself and be open to it and let it in. But I wasn’t sure where to find it, though I could feel something in the nature around me, like a gentleness and joyful trust and acceptance, but I wasn’t sure how love feels like.

    These reflections were brought on by reading your blog by the way 🙂 So thank you very much for the work you do.

    Reply
    • Anne Linn
      November 27, 2015 at 9:03 am (3 years ago)

      I can totally believe the mist is related to the Goddess. I think maybe opening to joy happens little by little, slowly cracking open to it.

      Thanks for your words Laura. They warm me in the morning 🙂

      Reply

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