“About twelve years ago, I met a homeless woman who identified herself as a sundowner. She described how each evening’s sun invited her to settle down along the side of her life’s path so that her journey could begin afresh in the morning sun. She eloquently described an undercurrent of yearning that ebbed and flowed throughout her soul and how, in her past days, she found herself at the mercy of private memories, thoughts, and imaginations and had encountered, time and time again, various degree of discontent despite the seemingly fulfilling qualities of her life.
As I hear the suffering within women who story their lives through the multi-colored threads of substance use, I find myself acknowledging a similarity within each of these unique stories with my own metaphysical search for someone, something, or some place that remains beyond the forever next horizon. Each of our unique narratives reveal an unending wandering with satchels of discontent that tell of a spiritual emptiness and an emotional intimacy with a homesickness for a place one knows cannot be.”
~B Catherine Koeford (A Meditative Journey with Saldage)
Clear waters unchanged
in a meadow
I saw once long ago
will you remember
this face of mine?
~Saigyō (B Watson, Poems of a Mountain Home)
It is by its breath
That autumn’s leaves of trees and grass
Are wasted and driven.
So they call this mountain wind
The wild one, the destroyer.
~Fun’ya no Yasuhide
Is it because my mind
on every worldly thing
that the world seems
more hateful to me than ever?
~SaigO (1118-1181 B Watson, Poems of a Mountain Home)