bowls and emptiness

I love bowls

ceramic bowls, wooden bowls,

laps and pregnant bellies

round things that hold stuff,

I love all that.

the bowl of my heart is

empty of love,

empty of hope,

but full of fear

so difficult to hold anything.

"Today, just like every other day I wake empty and frightened."  Rumi

I'm empty again. Here is that familiar place of hollowness--and yet unable to hold anything.  I long to make myself a vessel to hold something useful, some love, some warmth, some guidance.



Acoma seed jar



I'm empty and round and circling the bottom of this hole of despair. Somehow, it seems familiar and somewhat comforting this roundness and a sensation of being held even though I'm all alone in this place.  I'm still connected to the universe, to Divine, even in this place.  I think I will make some bowls today--something big and write a welcoming inside for my soul to slide into or maybe I'll make some tiny pinch pots that almost close at the top, like a seed jar, to keep my soul safe within.  This giving up my life is hard.  I know something better will come.  I must Trust and be open.  Empty and Frightened---Move away fear--Move---I want my soul in all it's brightness to fill this bowl.