Over the past few months I've made some time and space to revisit this work, yet my efforts so far have felt shallow and less than rooted to the calling that beckons me. I recognize that Truth. I've journaled it. Yet mere acknowledgement is - apparently - not enough.
Last night as I sat crocheting with my spouse and some foolishness on the foolish screen, the healing mantra-counts that guide my crochet patterns took on a voice of their own, if only for a moment, and I felt an uncomfortable shift. The backache I had been experiencing most of the day eased, yet the ache lingered elsewhere, moving throughout my being, transformed to an ethereal reflective form that challenged me from the places of mystery to which I've been summoned, yet have not fully committed.
So today, after the mystery of night's deep sleep, I reflect on my ordinary life journey thus far... as well as those otherworldly journeys that woke and nurtured parts of me that manifested extraordinary experience and perspective that is - I am quite certain - otherwise unreachable. I sit here and honor the fiber of my journeys, ordinary and otherwise, that twine and circle and become stronger with each hook 'n' twist 'n' spiral. I sit here and honor how mystery gets our attention. I sit here and honor the commitment and the roots I must nurture. I sit here and honor the work that sits - in progress - on my lap.
I sit here and honor the actions I shall take.
Peace.
