When Young I Dove

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When young, we want to dive into everything. But as we age, we surrender more than dive, and so feel the magic of the wind along the way.

When Young I Dove

When young I dove to the bottom of the

sea. Now I know there is no bottom. Time

after time, impaled by falling into life or

cut by the fear and envy of others, I was

certain I would never recover. But here I

am, strong as an oak that has outlived the

war. In the knots that have healed, the

most beautiful grain. It’s taken sixty years

but where I sought to dive I’ve settled into

slowly, year after year, into a bedrock of

being. It’s tender here. The simplest curl

of wind holds the amazement of everyone

who ever climbed into the open, surprised

at what they saw. Like everyone before me,

I’m not ready to go. Nothing’s wrong. I’m

not ill or out of sorts. I simply realize that

the brilliant orange leaf about to die is

looking at me as if I am full of color. I so

love being here. I think this is what it sees.

A Question to Walk With: In conversation with a friend or a loved one, describe a time you dove into experience and what that taught you. Then describe a time you fell into experience and what that taught you.