The following entries (from beginning runner to half marathon finisher) represents a continuing journey of tremendous grief and sorrow, and of transformation - largely through the therapeutic power of running. The sorrow that has broken my heart open wide has in time allowed me to experience the beauty of being in the present moment. And of course, without the support of family and friends to guide me, I would not have made it this far.

If you have lost someone in your life, I offer these words and verse (some Kristy's, some mine and others) with the hope it may touch your heart and help you heal.
mailto:clarksonart@gmail.com


Monday, February 16, 2009

DESERT WINDS


New Mexico at sunset - photo by Kim Clarkson

What makes the desert beautiful
is that somewhere it hides a well.

Antoine de Saint-Exupery


The following is a note I wrote to Kristy's friend Catherine while I was in the New Mexico desert with my sister Kim shortly after Kristy's death.

This morning I walked to the college by myself through the rockiest and steepest parts of the desert trail. It took over an hour but I was rewarded with breathtaking views of the mountains and vistas below. I can see Angel Peak on the left and Shiprock on the right, just to give you an idea of what landmarks are around. The wind was not so loud this morning and I could hear the doves cooing as they were waking.

For the last few days my sister and I have been walking around 7 pm - by doing so we have been rewarded with a closeup view of a huge owl. He is so large it looks as if a goose is flying! And of course he makes no sound. I am hoping to find a feather but so far no luck.

The desert looks still and unmoving, but when you look closer - out of the corner of your eye - you can see so much life. I am a little hesitant to walk in the desert hills when the winds are raging. According to native wisdom this may not be wise. So I have to learn to pay more attention to the current of life going on around me. Kristy is now in this current. I feel the same deep connection to you too. You were so dear to Kristy. I remember she told me she had talked to you not too long ago. It was a statement out of the blue as we were loading furniture into her room. I had to laugh with her as we reminisced.

I guess now it is up to us to make a new world for ourselves. One with Kristy always in our mind's eye. For after we are gone the part of her we are carrying with us will also be gone. But she will have by then become part of us and therefore part of those who remember us in our turn.

Thank you Catherine, for being a well to Kristy.

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