by Mark Callan
click to enlarge
I do it
one
by
one.
I toss my confidence into the creek,
a beautiful and sturdy chunk.
that cocky little white boy sluices down
the small drop and wrestles with the
washing machine.
he doesn’t stand a chance.
then comes my physicality, an antler.
dreams of the mountains and other adventures disappear
over the edge.
lastly, my identity lands with a slap like a beaver tail,
ztwisted and dense
my brain swirling beneath the surface,
heavier than the others.
the others do it next.
we watch them like
paddle
on
his
way
to
the
sea
some pieces
pop right out
and rest
in the eddy awhile,
before making their way
downstream
to the ocean from whence they came.
some, like my confidence, have a harder time escaping,
but break away
eventually.
and some yet go unseen,
perhaps
dragged under and
stuck somewhere, or
perhaps
having snuck away to race the rest.
then the petals.
thin shavings of colour,
too bright and beautiful to be real.
I send mine down
reluctantly,
one
by
one.
not wanting them to leave so suddenly, or
all at once,
because the pain of letting go is so great
and yet
when they disappear,
a lightness is revealed.
later,
a group gathers
Look! Come see!
the creek!
a prism
somehow,
after swallowing
what we’ve lost and absorbing the blessing of the petals,
the creek!
red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo and violet
like a rainbow transformed into shimmering liquidity
like superheated metal,
or the slick on a swamp,
but magical and otherworldly.
later,
I return
and it’s just the creek
parts of ourselves,
salmon in reverse,
returning to the ocean with
hooked kypes, rotten flesh and
scars from nets, grizzly bears and eagles,
maybe someday to return
as salmon fry -
vulnerable and fresh to
a new world of possibility.
Or maybe to be eaten by egrets, herons or trout.
Down the hall,
the murmurs of a guru,
the muffled weeping of an acolyte
from behind a closed door.
Mark Callan lives in Whitehorse, Yukon his wife Meghan and their three children. He was diagnosed with CNS Lymphoma in 2009 and attended a retreat that year with Meghan and his newborn baby Hadley. After receiving whole brain radiation treatments, his cancer was declared to be in remission. In 2025, he was diagnosed with the same cancer and after a stem-cell transplant, was hopefully cured. He attended another retreat in 2026 and spreads the gospel of Callanish whereever and whenever he can. He will be forever grateful to Callanish for the support him and his family have received. Hadley is heading to the University of British Columbia this fall.