I would like to believe that everything follows in a linear path, that one step leads to the next and not three steps back. Yet I don’t. When you consider that the further one goes down the road, there’s potentially more to travel back to revisit, this complicates the idea of trajectories.
But is it really worth seeing all again? When you know the ground, the lay of the landscape, the players involved, the endless cycle of repeating behavior, why be surprised. We would like to believe that the outcome will be different, the words changed at the end of the conversation, yet instead, nope, the same result. At the start, during the awareness, self recognition, there’s a push back. But as the years pass a gentleness enters, a recognition that what they see, or have suffered through, is comparable if not worse than what has been seen with ones own eyes.
Compassion, a gentle warm breeze passes through, scattering small leaves about the ground, memories from long ago. It is the passing of a torch in many ways, the handing back of a flame, an ember that they once held. There’s no way to determine when, only that it will occur, and must at some point in time, as true as breath and a heart beat. The hope is to be there with smiles, to leave all clothing at the doorway, only as one self enter, speak, see, and then pass forward.
One concentric circle follows another, gently tipping to touch the other, then bowing in the wind, upward and away. Hovering, stacked one on top of another, they extend upward in a quivering mass, slacking to maintain balance and control. In an ever present hum they vibrate with life, tied through tangent and touch to those far above and below. In silent streams they illicit a quiet light that eases into gentle notes of base note sounds, resonant, encompassing.