Wind

It is a windy day here at The Sea Ranch. I am gazing at the white caps and they are waking me up to a fluidity I seldom feel. Water is such a beautiful example of flow. Sculpted by the wind, the waves rise and hurry on toward the shore, expanding and contracting, rising and falling. I feel this energy in myself today. I feel a willingness to be taken by the wind, to let go of the shore, to shout a "yes" to the day.

Today, by some grace, I embody D.H. Lawrence's poem, so I will share it here:

Not I, not I, but the wind that blows through me! A fine wind is blowing the new direction of Time. If only I let it bear me, carry me, if only it carry me! If only I am sensitive, subtle, oh, delicate, a winged gift! If only, most lovely of all, I yield myself and am borrowed By the fine, fine wind that takes its course through the chaos of the world Like a fine, an exquisite chisel, a wedge-blade inserted; If only I am keen and hard like the sheer tip of a wedge Driven by invisible blows, The rock will split, we shall come at the wonder, we shall find the Hesperides.

Oh, for the wonder that bubbles into my soul, I would be a good fountain, a good well-head, Would blur no whisper, spoil no expression.

What is the knocking? What is the knocking at the door in the night? It is somebody wants to do us harm.

No, no, it is the three strange angels. Admit them, admit them.

- D.H. Lawrence | Song of a Man Who Has Come Through

This is my prayer and my benediction. I cannot say it better, and even D. H. Lawrence cannot say it as beautifully and clearly as the landscape that lies at my doorstep. So, I will leave this page, this computer, and answer the call of the sea. I will go out. I will let the wind blow through me. Three strange angels . . . you are welcome here.