I had a thought just now that I want to be crushed by the fall of a giant redwood tree. This tree should be 3000 or so years old and would fall upon me, the forest lightening and the sky shuddering with the sound of its magnificent demise.
I had this thought after looking at hundreds of my nature photographs.
My mind is a unmixed paint – swirls of colors, nothing decided. This image popped into it. And this is what it means: I want to be consumed by nature, smooshed out to nothing and become a part of a great success story. It isn’t that I want to die. It is that I am exhausted with the effort to participate in being alive.
The terrible, effortful nothingness that is compounded by the strain of watching this disease stroll through my sister’s life is too much. Too much.
Today was her birthday. She was alright – pain, with breaks, is her alright.