Yesterday I had the most disconnected feeling. It was not a bad feeling just as if I was floating between two worlds. I suppose this comes as no surprise given the strange tone of my posts. There was a strong presence with me, as if it was speaking through me. This all sounds very supernatural and this is not at all what I mean. This feeling came from deep within as if it were calling to me, telling me not to be afraid, that all would be well. I still feel it with me today and I’m filled with words that are trying to make their way out in some sort of organized form. Perhaps that is the problem, this organization I so strive for. Perhaps I need to just sit with those words and let them happen and then look back at what has been written.
There is also the need for quiet, to close my eyes and hear nothing but the whispers of the wind, the soft movement of the water, to feel the warmth of a fire and let that person hidden inside have some time to come forward and speak. The wanderer in my soul calls in her unmistakable voice bringing with her the urge that pushes against all that I have been taught to be these many years. It’s like a constant conflict moving inside of me.
Today I also realized how much is frightens me to let go. Last night I realized, a bit late, that one of my favorite bloggers had written her last post. Her blog was a thing of beauty both in the words and the art she used to “grace” the pages. As I read the words I felt this pit in my stomach and the familiar anxiety sweep over me. Why was this so difficult for me. This is a good time for her one where she makes a turn on the road, pursuing the path of her own life. Later in the night as I thought about it I realized my own doubts were gnawing at me, wondering if the page of the blog is my last stop, something I will one day grow out of, or if I will finally let go, digging deeper for words that can carry me down a new path. Certainly I’m not growing tired of being here. For now this is my haven, a place to write the words that come to me, sometimes at the strangest times of day. This past two days those things have probably seemed a bit disconnected. Perhaps only through disconnection can we really find the things that help us connect, then only can we blossom, letting go and opening ourselves to all that is within us.