|synaptic disunion|

Tuesday, March 07, 2006

the beginning of peace...the bringer of change...but still waiting...

Last May, I wrote these words...

It's a lovely day. The sun is warm, there's a nice breeze, and the darkness and fear in my mind is slowly drifting away like smoke.

I imagine myself lying on my back, by a river, looking up at the blue sky punctuated by thick, but not heavy, clouds of white. I let them drift into my head, sweeping out the lint, the cobwebs, the anger, the anguish, and the regret. I watch as they leave me again, leaving only a flat, untarnished, canvas of deep clear, clean, blue. A small trace of a smile etches itself across my bearded face, and the breeze stirs my lengthening salt and pepper hair. Age, once feared, I now welcome. Death, once terrifying, I am at peace with. Life, once a burden, I now embrace.

I hope that all of you who read this entry today can find your own peace. Let the ghosts and demons go. Let the darkness turn to light and welcome life back to where it belongs, in your hearts. It's not easy, but rewarding.

It shows the place I was in then. A place I'd like to get back to soon. Right now, illness and stress are causing me anguish, and these words seem very distant, very foreign. I'm waiting for them to feel real again.

And yet, I am hopeful. When I read these words, I am reminded that this darkness will not last forever, that I will make it through this time of stress. I must wait. But change has to come from within, I cannot rely on and wait for atmospheric changes alone.

I hope that all of you who are in dark places today, have a path that leads back to the light, back to hope, and back to peace. If you do not, just wait, it will come. Time and waiting are healing.

I've healed myself while I've waited in airports, watching others wait. Waiting for the board to change, waiting for the hour to come, waiting for the soup to cool, waiting for the drink to come. Sitting in an airport bar waiting for the smoke to clear. I've felt the healing power of patience, and being forced to wait.

In response to this week's Anamnesis.

: toadman : at Tuesday, March 07, 2006 |