The In-Between

Icicles hang from tree branches. Freezing rain means the ground is glazed with ice. Temperatures hover right around freezing. Drip, drip, drip. This is the in-between time--sometimes rain, sometimes ice. Sometimes liquid; sometimes solid. Rain changing to ice; ice changing to rain.

The in-between time seems like a time of magic. In between night and day, the roseate dawn lights the darkness. In between the day and night, shadows lengthen and dimness prevails.

In between awake and asleep, liminal consciousness leads to unconsciousness.

In the ancient Egyptian calendar, these days before the new year were "extra" days--in between the years.

In-between is not a time of waiting, but of watching. Watching / feeling every moment change into the next.

Ice Cubes on a Stick

Ice Cubes on a Stick

Taking a walk by the river, i was surprised to see icicles on the shrubs in a variety of forms--ice cubes on a stick, icicle fingers, and icicle drapery. Nature's artistry is amazing.

The river rushed by, just inches away--water in its liquid form--while i admired water in its solid form. Water appeared in many different bodily forms (solid ice), which only later, when i wasn't looking, would return to liquid form.

Our body appears to be solid, yet we know that it is 70% water. We don't pay much attention to the water flowing into and out of our body. We think, "Water. My body. Urine." and thereby fail to see the water-water-wateriness. Not different water. The same water in different forms.

And really, couldn't we say the same thing about all the people on this earth? Water in such a variety of forms.

Icicle Fingers

Winter Begins

Meterological winter has arrived. The coldest 91 days begin on December 9. Temperatures drop to single digits as if to underscore this fact and bring it to our attention. Water loses its liquidity and becomes solid enough to walk on, slide on, fall on--or skate on. Gaseous vapors rise from patches of the still open water in the river; steam rises from the grates of sewer lines on their way to the nearest stream. The brief humidity quickly freezes onto our windshields.

It's a magic trick, when you stop to think about it. Gas and liquid converting to a solid state. Nothing is fixed, not even something as basic as water.

We fix these concepts with words: ice, water, steam; and we lose sight of their relationship to each other and their silent lessons for us.

Our own bodies are composed of solids, liquids, and gases. Bones, blood, and breath. Ever-flowing, ever-changing.

Where is my "me"?