The image held me fixated for a while. So much like a crumbled cookie or pieces of a jig saw puzzle spilled out on a table. The image of crumbling and disconnection and still the image was very coherent and intact. So many metaphors flew through my mind. The breaking down of false beliefs or myths. Detaching from negative illusions, self-talk, perceptions, or emotions. The power of time, nature, and gravity. Yet even in its crumbling and detaching, you still could see the whole. My mind innately seemed to fit all the pieces back together. Blink…crumbling rock. Blink…wholeness. Blink….what would I call it?

I have sat with the image for a few days and its incoherent coherence still intrigues me. Finally I smile and bow my head in gratitude. My path is not destined to arrive suddenly into pristine diamond like clarity and wholeness. I have scars. My path is not destined to suddenly discover the absence of anger, fear, sadness, or death. Genetically and spiritually I am an experiential being.  I do not meditate, pray, or seek to bull doze or blast the rocks away. I meditate, pray, and seek to learn to transform, through honor, detached pieces of rock into clouds noting their shapes, meaning, portent of storms or promised rain during drought.  And then the whispered remembrance of the small bunny and chipmunk I have seen hide in their cracks. Even scars nurture….when detached.