Clawing My Way Up Through the Quicksand

“Along the way of life, someone must have sense enough and morality enough to cut off the chain of hate. This can only be done by projecting the ethic of love to the center of our lives.” – Martin Luther King, Jr.

“…I can only close the gap in broken community by meeting hate with love.” – Martin Luther King, Jr.

“Believe something and the Universe is on its way to being changed. Because you’ve changed, by believing. Once you’ve changed, other things start to follow. Isn’t that the way it works?” – Diane Duane

For the past few months, I have found myself wallowing…wallowing in sadness…in self-pity…in dread. It is not a pleasant place to be, that is for damn sure. I remember my childhood fear of quicksand. Every 60’s television character at one time was drowning in quicksand, and I had this claustrophobic terror of being trapped in it, not being able to escape, not being able to breathe. That is how I have been feeling lately. I have been sinking into the moat of despair, suffocating from all the venom. But here is the thing: all those characters were rescued from the quicksand. They grabbed the rope and hung on to gasp fresh air once they reached the surface. They then stood firm and saved the day or the town or even the planet.

So I have decided to toss myself that lifeline. I can maneuver out of quicksand. I will believe in goodness and hope and love, because love is stronger than hate, bigger than sadness, more tenacious than despair.

Magic flitters around this universe of ours in all forms. We just have to open our eyes, and really listen with intent and understanding. So, that is what I am going to do, especially this coming week. Every day instead of plunging into the darkness, I am going to cast aside dismay and align myself with simple joy. I will, “cut off the chain of hate.” I will meet it head-on it whenever malice claws its way through that freaking quicksand. 

This morning my joy is quiet. I hear the snoring of cats and the buzz of the furnace. My fingers race across the keyboard as my thoughts become words. I plan my day. Lunch with my mother and sister. A home yoga practice in the afternoon. Homemade chicken noodle soup for dinner. A clean house. Simple joys.

Aligning myself with love and joy and magic is not giving up. It is not weak. It is not passive. It is actively choosing to not give into the quicksand.

“I do believe in an everyday sort of magic—the inexplicable connectedness we sometimes experience with places, people, works of art and the life; the eerie appropriateness of moments of synchronicity; the whispered voice, the hidden presence, when we think we’re alone.” – Charles de Lint

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