Monday, September 28, 2009
There’s still dirt under my fingernails. I don’t want to clean it out. This dirt comes from the Land. This dirt comes from the ground that my feet walked across for the first time and felt free…light, Home. I want the reminder there for the times I need a boost. I have to erase the lines of past damage, the old habits and the old routines. I have to start anew. I love me – and I need me to survive.
I need some ground to put my feet upon so that my head remains close to this earth and not in the ever-changing and uncertain clouds of my thoughts and unkempt attempts at taking care of the whole, wide world. This dirt holds me close, serves as the in-between stuff that separates the gravitational pull of the earth and the atmosphere. The buffer that will keep me here on this planet, instead of up in space. The thing that keeps me from going into a magical, manic trip around the world in my head. This dirt under my fingernails is here to ground me.
A power plant will be built with this dirt as a foundation. It will wash out into my own shower and gradually fall out into my own house to spiff up the floor just a bit. A little extra to keep it strong. It will help to fill in those little cracks that start to show weakness. It will add weight where there is not enough and height where I need a boost. This dirt is not dirty – it is but one source of my clean energy.
I cannot clean this dirt form my hands. It is welcome. It is strength mixed with love. It is a reminder that there is a place where the world makes sense, if even for a week.