These words can never run out

and the mountain stands where we know it or not...

This morning, the hills were breathing out clouds on the exhale. Beyond the market hall, there was a foamy lake, snuggled between mountains. By lunch, it will be gone, seeping into the soil, scattered by an autumn storm.

Now, sitting at my kitchen table, the market hall has vanished. The clouds have risen from the forests and clustered over the streets, between the houses and chimneys. Commuters hurry past, heads down, to the trains. Dogs trot past, humans in tow, the world ignored. The mountains are gone, swallowed into anonymity.

Are they still there if I can’t see them?

I’m being challenged right now, pulled in directions that I chose, feeling left behind and disconnected. I have missed those mountains and their cloudy shrouds. I have missed the sparrows huddled in the hedgerows. I miss sinking into my ocean space, the silence of the world’s heartbeat, felt in my bones.

Is it still there if I can’t see it?

Waiting for clouds to clear in Eryri National Park (Snowdonia)

Like the looming face of the mountain, the ocean space exists, without my attention or demand. The silence is always there. The mountain stands.

The mountain in my soul is where I am called to, not the ocean. Not the empty depths, but the life-filled world. Silent and above it, I watch, I remember. A new view. A new space. A silence filled with birdsong and life, with heartbeat I can feel through my feet, with breath that inhabits my soul.

I return, step by step, descending closer to the world. It becomes more real. Less real. I have travelled and stood still. I return with a new view, a new silence in my soul. I am not behind, or separate, or messing up. I am connected, I am precisely where I need to be. I have all I need, deep within. I am strong and capable already, and I will learn and grow - and yet stay rooted to my silence, in my silence.

These words will never run out.

The clouds cleared, the world appeared.

Eryri National Park, stretching out under the clouds.

---

Hi friends, and thanks for reading.

Things are, as I said, a little challenging at the moment, with work and studies. Managing my time and energy is becoming an interesting exercise, as work is currently taking me away from home for a few nights a week. It will ease off, but for now, I’m trying to remember to reconnect to my silences, to myself. Being away from home means even eating healthy food can be a challenge, so I’m tackling one thing at a time.

This was my journaling this morning, reminding myself that, while I might not go there as much, to the space in my soul where the words seem to pour forth from, it doesn’t mean it isn’t there. It has always been there. It always will be. I just have to go there.

So this was my reminder to myself, to stop worrying that the words I have will run out, that I won’t be able to write here. They will never run out. The mountains still exist behind the clouds. The ocean depths still exist beyond my sight. When I am ready, I will go there again.

Have a beautiful week and weekend.

K x

Hi there! I’m Karen, and here at On the Outside I write about navigating life with my compass of curiosity, courage and connection, going via adventure and healing. I live amongst the south Welsh mountains, with a hoard of books, a garden full of foxgloves and goldfinches, drinking tea. Basically, a hobbit. Wandering, not lost.

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This is part of

Claire Venus

’s Sparkle on Substack Essay Club. This is essay 16/24. Go here to read more about it!