I will mention, but not complain, about the power going off twice yesterday. It is not like I was the only one affected by this and perhaps a little perspective on the situation would do me some good, no?
No, today I am going to talk about healing, a thing I am incredibly bad at, which, in my own little twisted logic loop, makes me the best person I know of to talk about it.
Physical healing is one thing, but maybe talking about the healing of other things is more pertinent to the discussion. We all have the physical scars from the time life has kicked us while we were down, but those scars remind us that we are, in fact, healed from those physical ills.
It is the deeper hurts, the hurts of the mind and the heart, that take the longest to heal if they can ever be healed at all that is. I am a firm believer in redemption, but there are things that can be done to you that can not be, should not be, forgiven. perhaps re-categorized as something other than what they are. I suppose it is the Viking in me that wants to make sure the grudges are never forgotten and that all markers are called in at the end of the day.
I will not retell the life story, I think that is counter-productive at this point. I will never forgive for some of the things that were done to me and, obviously as I am talking about them thirty-five years later, I can not forget them.
It is this, this memory wound, that I need to heal from.
…..This is not going the way it was supposed to go, so, in the nature of the Seeker learning from the Universe, let us follow this tangential thread as it winds its way to where it is supposed to go…..
Closing my eyes on the bad nights is as bad as being there all over again. Even as I write this, the sun in the sky and the Goddess above, I can feel the whisper of the tar-black darkness of it creeping along my psyche.
The dreams are not nearly as bad as they used to be. They are more images than actual remembrances and even those things that are clear as crystal are obviously behind the safety glass and my consciousness is well aware that they can no longer hurt me despite the vitriol still contained therein.
Safety glass. I have never looked at it like that. Like it is an exhibit at the zoo and I am safely behind that which will keep me safe and away from those things that would remove my face purely for the sake of having a thing to occupy their time as their brutal captors watch with a mere scientific interest in the phenomenon.
Am I the one trying to rip the face off of the innocent? I am the one struggling to break free of the cage I have been put in/put myself in so that three can be some semblance of a return to what that part of me would call order? I am guessing being controlled by the Id is probably not the most optimal situation on the best of the days.
Now that I have your full confusion and attention, maybe I can try to get back to the point of what I wanted to say, which was sometimes we have to look outside of the normal zones of comfort to see where we can find that which will heal us from the hurts that we are so inflicted with. From the medicines of countries that are not ours to things a little farther afield than that.
Food for thought.
So, remember this, all of you.
Epstein didn’t kill Himself, Science will always top Fear, Black Lives Matter, Pride is more beautiful than Hate, Wash your Hands, Socially Distance, and wear your fucking masks.
Until next time, as always my beloved Gentle Readers, as always, I bid you peace.
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