In the desert of purple shadows

Last night I dreamed of walking miles through a brittle desert. Wil was there. And Revel. We walked and walked, following the shadows cast by a bright moon. Purple shadows, like bruises, painted over cool sand, and marking our skin.

I felt tired,

there was no end in sight.

We just kept walking and walking. Dry soil crunching softly under bare feet.

I’ve been thinking about surrender lately.

How it can be an act of giving up, or quitting,

backing down from the fight.

But also it can be a giving into,

a turning towards the unknown,

an opening up to new ideas, things, and worlds.

Surrender can be a kind of listening, I think.

A kind of seeking,

a sort of looking for answers

outside of ourselves.

Being alive right now requires constant work,

demands an endless ability to live and grieve at the same time.

The push and pull of this is painful. But not altogether unpleasant.

I’ve been lost for awhile. Awash in a sea of questions and demands. Awash in a sea of survival, small civilized worries. Yet again tricked into playing the game. Or at least making an attempt to.

But suddenly we’ve lost our home, my small family and I. Painfully, and traumatically, we lost the only security we had left.

Our little house sits, emptied of us, but still filled with the things that make up our lives. The books on their wooden shelves, the bins of toys, some drawers of food. Small things. And even smaller things. Beads. Little statues. Skulls, birds nests, art.

We’ll get all of our stuff back of course if we wish. But sitting here separated from the things that make up our home, I can’t help but wonder, are we better of without them? Already in my mind their purpose seems fuzzy, their importance seems…not so important after all.

And what now? Do we find a new home somewhere? A rental, more expensive really than we can pay, to house our small things and smaller things, a place to rest our heads at night after long days spent doing things we’d rather not do to pay for a home we’d rather not have to house the things we don’t really need when I all I really need is right here, sleeping in this borrowed bed, in the home of my mother who loves me?

And all in the name of what? Survival? Progress? Because it’s the right thing to do? Because there’s no other choice?

Questions, questions.

So we walk, onward and onward through the desert of purple shadows, forced into a cross examination of our lives.

And always in the distance there is the wild calling.


Thank you for listening,



photo by Michelle Johnsen

photo by Michelle Johnsen


2 responses to “In the desert of purple shadows

  1. I echo Marney’s words –

    And above all that, know that we love you.

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