feeling some obligation to read the Bible...not a burden, but some freeing responsibility.
I rose and walked to the bathroom, a mysterious vertical power lofting me up from below - stepping in front of the mirror, the familiar, already known source made visually evident, emphasized by the cotton legs of unders pushed incrementally up by the activity of dormancy.
I sit here aware of some power. I am wondering if it is from reading about modern mythic heroes while feeling the urge to sleep, to dream.
I dreamed that I returned Home to find an overnight renovation that also made the inside of my family home vast and manoral. In evening there was a party of due size, at which I discovered that someone had published these thought contained here as "journalism". This was somehow connected to suger-glittered gumdrop figures which I gathered held some value. At the discovering, indignant, I reclaimed my right to my words and noticed that all the trappings seemed to be leaving as well..at which point, like freed children, the vast space began to be used not for the things we'd always wanted to, but for the things we HAD used them. The last thing I saw was kneeling to the floor and releasing through tears the pressure built up in claiming one's own self.
I do not know how much connected this was to hearing of my sister's similar waking-life reclamation of self and my verdant hope that this time it sticks, but knowing that it takes a few tugs on the rope to get out of a really deep hole.
The Sun is out. Today I will stand uP.
I rose and walked to the bathroom, a mysterious vertical power lofting me up from below - stepping in front of the mirror, the familiar, already known source made visually evident, emphasized by the cotton legs of unders pushed incrementally up by the activity of dormancy.
I sit here aware of some power. I am wondering if it is from reading about modern mythic heroes while feeling the urge to sleep, to dream.
I dreamed that I returned Home to find an overnight renovation that also made the inside of my family home vast and manoral. In evening there was a party of due size, at which I discovered that someone had published these thought contained here as "journalism". This was somehow connected to suger-glittered gumdrop figures which I gathered held some value. At the discovering, indignant, I reclaimed my right to my words and noticed that all the trappings seemed to be leaving as well..at which point, like freed children, the vast space began to be used not for the things we'd always wanted to, but for the things we HAD used them. The last thing I saw was kneeling to the floor and releasing through tears the pressure built up in claiming one's own self.
I do not know how much connected this was to hearing of my sister's similar waking-life reclamation of self and my verdant hope that this time it sticks, but knowing that it takes a few tugs on the rope to get out of a really deep hole.
The Sun is out. Today I will stand uP.
