Today her coat was torn apart. Her coverings blown away. Her mask was destroyed with a fury only the greatest of storms can achieve.
I asked her if it hurt…I had seen her shaking. I watched as things had been torn away. I saw her stand there and let the blows come.
“This is what we all must do,” she said. And I noticed the look upon her face. A small smile curling on her lips. A look of satisfaction. Through the tatters of her coverings I noticed her body, relaxed, soft, vibrantly alive. The slow sap of blood making its way, heart to limb, heart to limb.
The storm, it plays around her. It plays within her. It is a true reflection of her mind. The deepest darkest thoughts. The peeling away, lifting, the bringing home, the alchemy.
“I just want to know how you withstand it,” I asked. I just need to know that I’ll withstand it.
All she did was gesture down to her feet, bare on the snowy earth. Roots. She tilted her face to the low hanging moon beyond the storm clouds. She spread her arms to the sky.
She does not resist, she welcomes.