I am mindful of my abject indebtedness,
my defining indebtedness,
to other people, living and dead,
who have left a trace upon me.
It’s as if we’re made not of skin and bone,
rigidly encased, but clay, just as the old Bible story said.
We’re made of soft material,
not completely hardened in the kiln,
and we are shaped and formed,
transformed, reformed,
by every meaningful encounter.
People leave their marks on us.
We carry them with us therefore,
all the ones we’ve loved and lost,
and all the ones still living.
The ancient ones believed
the veil between the worlds is thin
at Samhain, Halloween;
I think it always is.
– Rev. Victoria Safford, “Carrying My Buckets”
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