Flesh and bone, tears and snot, and blood all over the floor,

Even when I can’t see it or feel it – and even when I freeze, shutting it out for a while – the work stays. The work trusts.The work is willing to silently sit with me. I just have to trust.

So, finally – after a year of not posting to my blog, I posted. Half a page. Nothing special. Just a door, an eye, a heart opening after a time of being closed.

Opening after a time of learning to trust.

“You just have to trust,” my mother told me, before she died. Before she finally let go let herself yield to the inevitable end of whatever this is that …