Reason for Living

5493242948_b866048c56_o

Matt Knoth –  bewick’s wren singing: thryomanes bewickii flickr creative commons

Why live? Why not just be formless energy? Why have bodies, this pain and illness – What is the point of the suffering? Continue reading

Letter to My Garden by Erica Sternin

Zucchini leaf

Zucchini leaf

This morning, mildew powders the zucchini leaves
and crows fly the obsidian highway.
Savoring my first dark coffee,
I long to plunge my fingers

Continue reading

Second Chance

Photo credit:  Kurt Bauschardt

Photo credit:
Kurt Bauschardt

My cat opens her sinewy jaws and releases a still-living chickadee into the rafters of my home. A day like any day, flitting about, white wing tips flick-flick-flicking, “tit tit” calls amongst the flock – until BAM! Fetid carnivorous fangs closed on her neck. Continue reading

Dreaming Into Life

Photo credit: Ratha Grimes

Photo credit: Ratha Grimes

In the morning I sit cross legged with my coffee. In the rain, or the dark, or the ethereal dawn – inhaling the staggering scent of lilies. My counselor said, “watch the places where you go UnConsious,” and my own mind filled in the rest, “because that’s what’s killing you.” Continue reading

Dances with Death – SoulCollage ®

Committee - Dances with Death

Dances with Death

I Am One who dances with death, unafraid. I am in Joy with my faithful companion, who is at my side ever day of my life. We are best friends enjoying the sprinklers and waterfalls of life. I am one who enJoys my life. This card’s gift to me is fearlessness. My gift to the card is Joy.

UPDATE: A fellow SoulCollager, Aimee Shaw, recently wrote an article, Why We Need a Memento Mori card, that speaks to the card I made, and I wanted to share here.

What is Yet Uncovered by Erica Sternin

Photo Credit:  Lindsay Shaver

Photo Credit: Lindsay Shaver

What is yet uncovered

Are the surging tides,

The drumbeat youdonemewrong,

The throbbing hooves of blue horses

Corralled beneath my skin.

Take it. Or leave it.

What is yet uncovered

Is the pointless wrung out laundry,

The twisted bitterness of alum.

This too is life.

Shape Shifting

Photo Credit: screenpunk

Photo Credit: screenpunk

I stood on the edge of the cliff, knowing that to continue my journey, to fulfill my life’s purpose, I had to step onto the tightrope stretched across the chasm to the far side.

And I could not move.

For four years I teetered on the brink, paralyzed, face to the wind, tears running down my cheeks, KNOWING that I could not walk that tightrope. Continue reading