Friday, April 24, 2009

Walking The Dead, Walking In Peace
















I'm back in the cemetary- strolling fervently, absorbing the calmness there, in the early mornings, sometimes with children, sometimes without. I've missed the solitude of its paths, the stories untold, the names and dates on display for my wandering eyes as I make my way up its hills and around the bends. For the last four days I've entered its gates with eclectic harmonies blaring in my ears, courtesy of my husband's iPod, an odd array of contemporary christian music coupled with the rather heretic melodies of "Fifty Cent." But today, in an effort to be more contemplative on my journey, more mindful of the words I was allowing to pierce my eardrums and perhaps, my soul, I threw off the headphones and took in the symphonies of God's creation instead- the birds, the wind blowing through the trees, my feet shuffling along, the laughter of my one-year-old.

There is such great irony, folks, in coming alive amongst the dead. But our world, our culture here, offers nothing short of sensory overload, in our cities, and in the suburb where I am growing deep roots. It is harder to hear the meanderings of my spirit, my God, with any clarity- so the solitude of these gravesites has become a welcome start to my day. And it is with the utmost respect and gratitude that I trod those hallowed grounds, taking in the peace, and whispering "good morning friends" with each breath.

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Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, United States
Forty-three year-old, mother and staunch advocate of four young children, passionate warrior of truth and self, finding the soul in each day, sharing my struggles and triumphs as I live them. Mostly I do this for me, so my thoughts don't race as much at night as they used to. But I also give this to those of you who need to know, in any or every way, that you are not alone.

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