Initials in the sand...

Connected, I'm so in touch with it all,

feel protected by the moon and the stars.

I'm walking barefoot, feel the grass in between my toes,

Bombshell, wind in my hair, let it blow.

It's been a while since I cried over something so nice.

I'm not coming back...

At the lip of a cliff, he looks out over the countryside, through the bare branches of birches and the melancholy covered branches of aspens and pines. A hard wind blows up out of a cavern and over his face. He knows this place, he knows its seasons - he has hiked these mountains in the summer and walked these winding pathways in the explosion of colour that is a fall. He feels the stirrings of faith that here, in this place, in his heart, serenity and peace will come again. But first the scars left behind by the storm must be waited out. And that waiting has worth.

Come on and change my mind...

How often have I lifted my foot to take a peek at what I'm standing on, only to discover that there's nothing there and that I've been confusing falling with standing. And while it's certain that healing brings a better life, it also threatens to permanently alter life as I've known it. My relationships, my position in the world, even my sense of identity may change. Coping patterns that have served me for a lifetime are being called into question. When I made a commitment to get better, I didn't realise I would be risking losing much of what is familiar. Much of what made life so easy.