Tuesday, August 24, 2010


She said that I would fail her often.  So to forgive myself now and forget doing it later.  Cause if life is a river, it's full of a lot of back water channels and eddies that swirl around and look enticing but don't actually go anywhere.

Yesterday she'd taken pleasure in joy.  Something pure that she knew was hers.  There had been freedom yesterday from the cage of pleasing others.  But today lingered the censure of regret at having given too much away.  She wondered if she'd been played for a fool.  That was not who she was becoming.  That was the child not the woman.  Such antics were not for her right now.  Now was for beading together the facets of herself, bringing into harmony the tribe of women that had been sharing her spirit for twenty nine hundred years, and were now ready to be knit together.

So she realized that in becoming this woman, discernment would need to be her guide, her friend, her confidant.  The bridge to the other side seemed less figurative now, less like something she'd read in a book or been told by another.  And the courage to travel was welling up like clouds that billow into towering cumulus, aware that their strength has the power to change the landscape below.

Power and authority she reminded herself.  Take these affections and pull them into yourself, let them penetrate you fully, pervade you like a lover that serves your soul.  Not so you can judge other but so that you can stand in the light for which your life is calling.  So that you can feel the sun on your face and joy in your belly.