This is the doorway into revelation, self healing.
I suppose I travel in many ways in this life. Most of all I travel in my mind. It makes me wonder what is real at times. It probably doesn't help that I have doctors telling me I am prone to psychosis. No that doesn't help at all. Sometimes fantasies are important. I have been listening to some spiritual podcasts that Oprah does and she starts out each podcast with the same little phrase. "Spiritual enlightenment, transcendence, growth or whatever needs time. We need to take the time." Of course that isn't what she actually says but I can't come up with the actual words, only this meaning. And this meaning is profound for me.
But in taking time I need to allow the fantasies in my head to unwind. What am I passionate about? What is real for me, even if it is not "real reality". I have to allow all of my essence to wander down many a road and envision many a thing. I have to ponder love and beauty, and all things important. Doing this takes time. I have time, if I allow myself to take it. This is the doorway into revelation, self healing.
Today the mist gathers in the valley before me once again, as it has for several illuminated fall mornings in a row. I have a modernized version of the Four Seasons playing, and my head is pounding from little sleep and a few drinks on an empty stomach the night before. It was a raucous night. The once annual Halloween shin dig at our local watering hole that many a folk attend. Music, dancing and debauchery. My sweet man came home early and I went back to pay the tab. I stayed to the bitter end even though I should know better. It is never that fun to see the bar fizzle out in emancipated glory. I am not sure what we were liberated from, perhaps just our sober selves. But the night eeked on in worried sleep and now I am up, awakened by a phone call from my two year old niece asking me where I was. Her voice was angelic and yet I was frozen, locked into passion plays in my head that are still unwinding, I make this all sound psychologically unhealthy, but it is fine. I feel thrust into a reckoning of sorts with the deep workings of my spirit and I know not where this day will lead.
And yet it is simple, the day benign, everything predictable. But just under the surface lay so many questions. Do I awaken to this day and shut down the lucid sultry dreams that have overcome me? Do I snap out of it and trudge on? Do I take the time to allow these questions inside of me to unwind their truth? Am I choosing to be tortured? Or if I snap out of it, am I just plasticizing the surface so I cannot see beneath any longer? It's all in there. No matter what reality I choose to accept, indulge in. It is all under there, waiting to surface in my chaotic dreams. So I am just pausing, one moment longer, before I allow this day to unfold in its predictable-ness, and as I sip my coffee, I ask myself, which road do I wish to travel?