Elegant Existentialist: Thoughts from a Therapist

Reflections of, the Shining Sun Sparkling diamonds Glisten over the sea Speaking to all, “Come back to me.” It pulls, it carries It rises and falls, Swelling  Like our hearts It always calls. Holding our secrets, Our memories made, Teen dream summers Along the ocean cascade. Beating with our hearts It always calls. Lifting the soul From the Earthly ground Surrounds us  we’re found. It holds our history Inhabits great mystery As it mirrors  the infinite quality of the cosmos. Written by Raquel Morris July 20, 2016

Jellyfish  What will life be when we cease to exist? Will jellyfish still swim through deep blue seas?  Will crickets still chirp their sweet songs in the night? Will there be anyone to marvel at the wonder of a star-filled sky pondering our part in the cosmos it’s more minuscule than we imagine men have such grandiose egos a self righteous view they’ve been possessive  since they were little boys smashing everything beautiful they could find in their tight, salty palm for others to marvel at their game of, Who Has the Most until there’s nothing left. What will life be as we cease to exist? 

Saint Junipero Serra Sometimes the darkness looms tall and too dark to see what’s in front of you is unknown the night is enveloped  with dread and anticipation about what you feel coming yet you must hold faith that you will not fall, instead you will be held you must keep looking up  to float above it all like the clouds lifted and in motion in constant dance with the cosmos just take a deep breath inhaling the fresh air of dusk in a time of Pandemic. 

Yosemite By Raquel Morris The mountains have been calling to my spirit, to relieve my soul of the daily stressors of being mother  and social worker and boss and healer. A lot of heavy hats for one woman to hold.   As we drove towards the snow covered mountains. I could feel the moment being cemented in our minds held with love for all of time. It all felt so timeless like it had always been a dream, a memory, simultaneously. A magical place bow before her majesty, the Mountains.  Surrounded by shimmering snow, golden rivers that flow, her emerald green forests,  where towering giants grow. It holds the wisdom of the earth. As we walked the forest paths I thought of the stories of all the people who have walked on that exact ground  in the past. Who has touched this sacred Earth? 

Wawona By Raquel Morris The ancient forests call to me Mother earth sings, “Let me heal your soul.”  Find solace from mankind with all his noise and foolery His power always fleeting Just a flurry of madness Don’t get caught in his storm Stand tall with stillness like the trees. Take each step with presence and ease. Listen for the gentle breeze providing guidance that sees what’s to come. Even fires  can’t kill the forest’s power it spawns regrowth and serves as a reminder that this land is sacred. The black trees juxtaposed on the snow-white earth showing us  the death in our ways to be blinded by greed to ignore the cries of our Mother Earth We’re marching to our death As the trees stand tall.