So, lately, like for the past few days or so, I’ve had like a heavy heart. Not literally, but there’s been an edge of sadness lurking around in there and I haven’t been able to put my finger on it. Nope, I haven’t been depressed or moping. I’ve just been aware that something else is going on around me or inside me. Not to mention that Candy (my dog) went crazy one night this week around 1 a.m. and wouldn’t stop barking and running until my sister and I left the house and didn’t go back. We had to stay at a friend’s house. All of this, and I”m sensing some stuff I can’t put my finger on.
Well, last night I went to a study session and during a time of meditation, I close my eyes and eventually see a little girl of Midd.le Ea.stern descent (in maybe either Leb.a.non or Pa.les.ti.ne.)standing alone with a blank look on her face. Then, eventually, I see dead bodies around her and shrapnel on a dusty road with buildings behind her, or pieces of what were buildings. As the dusty wind blows and there’s a blank look on her face, in the midst of all the ugly and pain, a yellow and brown or black monarch butterfly goes by and in spite of all the sadness in her heart, she smiles.
In a seemingly unrelated chain of events, I’ve been extremely sensitive to my environment lately. I’m a writer, and I’ve been feeling like dozens of stories trying to come through. Writing is an extremely emotional process for me that is more organic than structured. So, while I’m like in a beirthing position for the stories, it feels like the beginnings of labor–like you just sometimes have to go through the pain of bringing the stories out and waiting on the moment when they push themselves through. So, my sensitivity is relative to what feels like it’s about to be a serious multiple birth, the culmination of which will be an awesome collection of short stories. And I can’t complete the longer work I’ve started until I get them out of the way.
I said all of that to say that the temperature, my environment, my mood, my temperament, my soul–all feel write on target for what’s about to be birthed through me. Sit tight and I’ll keep you along for the ride.
Just my introspective thoughts
-NLC