The dog days of self torture and pity are not long gone but fewer and farther between like the coming summer weather. The rain comes around a little less while the sun peaks out occasionally to warm the heart. As the weather changes in my heart there are sudden, unexpected downpours that swamp my head and cause mildew to grow in my lungs. But overall there is more warmth, more hope and more sunny days… I can see the flowers springing out of my heart while my tummy makes way for the pretty butterflies of excitement. Hope clings to me like a heavy perfume overwhelming my sense of being.
During the initial adjustment of change I was overcome with doubt and grief, so much so that I could not even wink. The twinkle of my heart had sank… and though I pulled myself up and out, I had nothing more to give. I could not bear to write thinking I would only have darkness to share or conversely I would swing abruptly to the other side and write only bright and silly things that even Hallmark would find tasteless or flat.
I started pondering with a friend that to write with effort and with feeling one must be tortured and trapped. I must say at this turn on my path that I do not feel so darkly… and I can see the magic that burns beyond the self torture where true beauty stands and only the grateful feeling of self trust remains.
