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The Journey
September 27, 2015
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The Journey

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“The stars began to burn through the sheets of clouds, and there was a new voice which you slowly recognized as your own”. Mary Oliver

I read this poem around the same time as I was working on this little painty, pastel, hand bound book, and it seemed the two belonged together. Originally it was going to be a book without words, but the words had tumbled around my desk for days and wouldn’t go away.  The poem speaks of the birth of a new self- a rebirth which I realise I have experienced time and again in my life, in the quiet times, once the storm has passed. Only after the storm, with the windfall and the flotsam around me can I rebuild in my own time, in calm rather than chaos. The book marks my return back to the blog world, a resurfacing of confidence to put myself out there and continue the journey- having travelled through the ‘wild night’ towards the elusive goal of working-it-all-out. A journey to heeding less the call to conformity-to  and responsibility-for, and to reclaim my authentic, vulnerable, brave, imperfect voice. Having celebrated a landmark birthday since I last blogged, I’m sure the timing of my ‘stormy night ‘ of the soul that I experienced earlier in the year is no coincidence, but a bump on the road- the ‘branches and stones’ that Mary Oliver writes about, an opportunity to question and ponder the direction I am taking, and embrace the reality that I can, in the end, only save myself. “It is already late enough…” – time to get going, then… I’m so happy to be back, but I’ve got things to do, that only I can do… see you next time, on our journey…

Maz xx

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One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice–
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
“Mend my life!”
each voice cried.
But you didn’t stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do–
determined to save
the only life you could save.

MARY OLIVER

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10 Responses

  1. Debbie

    Welcome back to blog land, I’ve been missing your posts ?. And thanks for introducing me to that poem – I love it! x

    1. Maz

      Hi Debbie- glad you like the poem, it found me at just the right time! And thanks for welcoming me back to blog land, it’s good to be back 😉 x

  2. Beautiful journal! I’m so happy to see you blogging again!

    1. Maz

      Ah thanks Mary, nice to know I’ve been missed ? X

  3. Oh how I’ve missed your blog!
    Your words and your art are such a welcome and inspirational break in my day :) and these particular words and thoughts seem perfectly timed xxx

    1. Maz

      Thanks Sarah , your support means a lot x

  4. I love that poem, and your little book is beautiful! I can’t stop looking at the pages. It feels like it’s full of light.

    1. Maz

      Thank you Tara, I resisted the urge to keep adding to it as I too saw that lightness. I crave light, so why cloud it?!

  5. So glad you’re back, Maz! That poem is a personal favorite – found me at the right time, too. Hugs to you!

    1. Maz

      Thank you Hali, hugs gratefully received. Feeling much better than when I last spoke to you! x

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