This haiku came into my life about a year ago. Frequently, I stand in my own way and fail to see the world through new eyes. I need to let go of my preconceived notions to make sense of and see the world more completely in this moment.
Barn’s burnt down —
I can see the moon.
-Mizuta Masahide (水田 正秀?, 1657–1723)
(Winter Moon over Farm Field – Jill Battaglia)
My dear friend sent me this quote when one of the slates of my life was being wiped clean. When I read the words of this tiny poem then, I saw the barn as my marriage and the definition of my life that I had held up to that time.
Now, a year and a half later, I see more. This poem is actually quite large.
I see now: I am the barn. I am blocking the moon. And I am burning down!
I know I am repeating myself from other blog posts, here, but I sense that I am getting this same burning realization over and over again, on finer and finer levels, until there is nothing to talk about anymore. Do the fingers just go silent at some…
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