Morning Entries (Fences)

Though it fought hard over these last 6 seasons, the decades of age caught up with the fence. Hanging on by one rusted legacy nail a mere wiggle away from letting go and releasing its most decayed board to gravity whom begged for its submission to natural order.I was told the wind came in all of a sudden like some Wizard of Oz hurricane only native Californians could associate wind with. Santa Ana’s cross our lips often but hurricane winds were as foreign to us as shoveling snow in January.I was too removed at the time to fully comprehend, my feet planted in a Spanish island 6,000 miles from the chaos of what a living science fiction novel turned reality was ensuing back home. I was detached.The fence far from my mind and the state of our future foggy as I allowed myself the indulgence of an illusory existence; where birds sung to me at dawn over a backdrop of cotton candy skies laced with the lightest whispered winds. My taste buds jealous I could not capture the sweetness of what my eyes gluttonously consumed with ease.It was easier to let the light in then and it is always easier to let the light in when life feels free of decay, turmoil or grief. When conditions are peaceful. When money is plentiful and the fridge is full. When you’re removed from the tests and triggers and hard truths - the light comes flowing in because it’s easy to do.But it’s days like these when human rights are removed and people who praise the same Christ as you somehow fight to the death for a version of their own individual truth. When a reverend begs Mercy based on the doctrine of our shared book she somehow becomes public enemy number one and her witch trial follows suit.The days are long and the nights come too soon. Division comes in every shape and form because that’s what they want us to do. Sister against sister, brother against brother and all of humanity against the truth of a tired Mother Nature.The only unity we have is in the query, “how did we get here?”This fence plank sits as an answer to a question. The broken board once belonged to that fence.250 years of decay creeping in giving way to separation in the end. The Fence disappears for a moment and in its place indigenous lands appear up in flames.The answer seems all too painstakingly clear, let it all break and decay for the light begs to come through.XO, Ash Get full access to Diary of a Life Well Lived at diaryofalifewelllived.substack.com/subscribe