Monday, 24 December 2007

Finding your way in Todos Santos


Moving to a small town like Todos Santos or, to a lesser extent, Comox, might seem constricting and limiting. Paradoxically, the very smallness of the places and reduced distractions perhaps provide a wide-open, and scary opportunity for reinvention.

Floating

I’m floating
Adrift from ancient moorings
That sheltered me from gales of self-examination
Now distant and awkward
Yet emitting still the heady pheromone of familiarity

Unused to the infinities of open water
Aware of the existence of sea monsters
Of whirlpools that invite and draw into cloying depths
I lie terrified in excitement
Imagine careening across the crest of waves
Sails filled with the sureness of life
Pursuing a path of passionate purpose

But my senses are encrusted with the past
No trusted instruments at hand
To measure the worth of the currents
To judge delicious scents wafting across the water
To find and plot my course

And so I float
In my personal Sargasso of memories and unformed wishes
Tentatively exploring my surrounds
By the light of intuition
Waiting for the insistent lapping of waves
To dissolve the crust
And set me free.

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