Fog Lifting

It's Thursday and finally I feel better today, more human. Part of it is because I know I get my mask off tomorrow. This has been much harder then I thought. I've said that tho already, more then once I'm sure. I had to bring myself back from a little edge this morning, just a little one. Being alone in a small room for 7 days with plastic wrapped around my face and feeding myself through a straw was beginning to take a toll, I was starting to feel a little 'weak of self' but I'm okay now - just took about a half hour of internal work.

I'm out of my 'religious' fog - ;o) incorporated it, at least as much as I can for now. It's how I process, I open up to it fully, let it bleed into my cells, see what happens, does the result fit with me, resonate, transform me? If it does it's a keeper, if not, it goes. It's a keeper. So something I will continue to explore as my brand new life moves forward.

It's not been fun not seeing my friend and not really having any conversations of any length. I miss him. He's so incredibly busy with his job, it's crazy how far he's had to drive. I feel for how consumed hes had to be with it for over 2 weeks. Things have been difficult for him - F called him yesterday and that's the worst thing for him, it makes things unravel just a bit.

He saw Don today and called me on his way to work. He is the strongest man I know, have ever known. There have been some people that I've questioned not just their commitment to do 'the work' but their ability, their very basic inner strength, I can't even call it 'character' because it's not that, it's simply a strength they have at the core of who they are to take themselves on and look at the hardest things about themselves. To look at where you have been hoisted by your own petard, for it's one thing to see the unconscionable grievous acts committed by one's one mother or father. Yes, those leave a gaping sear in the soul of a young child. But the hardest things about us take on another dimension when we know we've inflicted them on ourselves even if the 'why' of that infliction is not our fault. THAT is where the real fiber of a soul lies, deep in that steely place where to actually look can cause one to either turn away from a fear too scary to consider for even a millisecond or...maybe we can stand the racing heartbeat and the momentary vile the seeps through our own veins and the horrible consideration that maybe, just maybe, we have made our own hell. It's those who can look, who can be with the thought that maybe they are their own devil and have created their own hell regardless of who led us to the gate, that we walked through that gate and we stand there now in the middle of a world we did not intend and do not want but we made it. It's only those characters I'm interested in, only those heroic and steely souls have the gift of seeing the darkness and pondering their own, because it's those people who want the best and can truly carry love and vision and light into the only real world that exists - the one they create. Those are the heros of the world regardless if they are a janitor or a physicist or a mother or a doctor. THAT is humanity, to acknowledge what is human in all it's ugliness and to transform it into something beautiful, and to come out of it and be able to love. That is a hero.

One has to travel that path to become fully human, there is no plan B for that one.