Good Grief 109

Niche
There was a perfect spot here where the rocks provided a protected and unexpectedly comfortable support for my back as I sat and looked out.
If I stepped a couple of paces one way or the other I'd have been blown away. All around me the wind was raging and the land was looking washed out, beleaguered and battered by recent rains and storms.
It was a place to contemplate the significance and power of presence.

I thought about one of the things that had bothered me at work. As I looked out from here I began to see more clearly senses of parallel processes. Yesterday I had asked the question 'am I making things overcomplicated?' Even my questions are sticks, battering sticks. They are not asked with generous, interested, loving curiosity that welcomes exploration, they are spit out like the raking fire of a machine gun.
In the niche, in that space that is unexpectedly found between the hard places there is another place.
I had conceded that things are complicated.
And that is the thing ... it is a rich and wonderful complexity that deserves interest, care and exploration ... for there are places to be found, new worlds to be discovered.
I thought about being sat with someone who had wanted my opinion, who had wanted words written down, clarity, things crossed out and re-written, wanting discipline, to know what 'was right'. I thought about how this instilled my own panic - of not being able to do what I 'should' do, not being able to offer clarity when it is sought, not knowing 'what is right' ... and then feeling a charlatan, a fraud ... and awful.
Sat here I looked out at the wind funnelling down across the water and creating currents and cross currents, bodies of water moving alongside and across other bodies of water, running parallel and across, shifting and moving alongside .... all influencing each other in their race downwind. All these parallel processes.
And I thought about the great power of presence ... and niches ... and space for other worlds to unfold.