Today is a day for standing on the mountain top.
Today I stand looking over the timespace span of valleys, rivers, forests and hills I have crossed. Remembering, yet once again, the journey of lonely roads and stormy nights, then unexpected days of glory. I was alone for the longest time! I seemed to be accompanied only by strange creatures, like bats and stray cats. Sometimes they were benign ghosts standing by or scary vampires threatening to suck out the last bit of energy I had in me (this was how the fear felt inside of me). Angels showed up here and there not for any important reason, it seemed, but just to tell me to keep doing what I was doing, which I kind of already knew. My favorite encounters were the sense of the presence lost loved ones and indigenous ancestors, and of course, actual friends stopping by for a chat–real life, flesh and blood, friends who’d show up to save my life without knowing it needed saving. When dealing with deep levels of post-traumatic stress, the mind turns itself into all kinds of pretzel shapes. I dreamed of the day when my reality would stand stay in once place! I dreamed of the day when I could be “normal” again, happy again.
Looking back, it was the breadcrumbs that the birds missed that ended up leading me back home.
Now, at the end of my tunnel, how could have imagined that there would be so many flowers blossoming in a field of wonder?
Today I sit back with my coffee in hand, contemplating all these realities and places I shall never return to. I also contemplate the beauty encircling me right now. I have friends that I had been dreaming of having through all my years of isolation. We have great conversations over wine; we cook together and plan parties. I paint, I laugh, I love. I really, really love. Every day I am more filled up with the essence of all this magic! Each beautiful experience is like a flower blooming just for me. I soak up the love they give me. This is water for my next long journey.
I hold the knowing softly in my heart. Every day of suffering was worth it!
12 thoughts on “looking back”
How many lives are wasted on battlefields created by those who offer not blood for the shedding? King and country, guts and glory, do any of them mean a thing when one is staring up at the sky as the blood drains and life fades?
Yep. The story of our world. This can change, right?
We as individuals can. I did, but I was actively seeking, so the Holy Spirit led me o the truth and away from the siren call of so-called patriotism. There is honor in the golden rule, and it is a duty. If I can learn this, so can others.
It would be great if the governments called for war and the warriors decided not to show. Plowshares are best left as plowshares.
I think you and I are speaking of a slightly different battlefield. I use the word as metaphor.
That’s the thing about metaphors, huh? I guess we are in different places in our travels.
I hope you arrive at your intended destination.
Thanks! You as well:-)
Hey, really like this one.
Felt a gentle wind of meaninglessness in it. A kind of 🙂
By the way one question: Don’t u see that many are already got trapped in that battlefield by being conditioned to that ambience without having a wayout from it?
Happy are those who struck with light 🙂
Trapped? Yes. But it’s not hopeless. There is a way out:-)
I didn’t mean hopeless, bt if u’ve observed Hw a conditioned mind acts, u’ll have the answer. 🙂
hi – i have tried to reply to your replies on my blog and my F##king computer –or word press does not put my replies up i will try again later this happens a lot
Oh no! So frustrating:-) We can hang out on Wayward’s blog then… ha ha