the promise of
the promise of
the river so reflects my shifting moods…
to the gentle rebirthing of
I have torn away the
I have abandoned the
Dead remnants of the old self…
I have surrendered all
I am the New Woman…Reborn…Born-Again…and again and again and again…
I am Consciously…Deliberately…Irrevocably…At-One with First-Cause…with the
Creator of Heaven…And the Earth…
I am the New Woman…
Season of death and harvest
Time of decay and falling away…
Summer’s death in
Blazing fires of
Red and gold
That promise the return of glory
Just sitting here at my window altar drinking in the beauty of this late summer afternoon. Thinking about what these times of personal adversity are teaching me. I am becoming a Wise-Woman…am being tempered by life.
Am learning that a Wise-Woman accepts what is and goes within for shelter…guidance…security…fulfillment. In the midst of pain and adversity, she remembers who she is and Whom she has come to serve.
She recognizes her dark nights of the soul and accepts them with peace and tranquility in her heart…knowing that this too has come to pass…
A Wise-Woman depends upon her faith to see her through…regardless of how small and meager that faith may be.
She understands that solutions are not to be found in the madness of the external world but in the silence of her heart…
She knows that regardless of how difficult circumstances become, she must remain cheerful and upbeat…”laughing in the Devil‘s face.”
A Wise-Woman remembers that Her Holy Husband Which Art In Heaven…the Other Side of Who She Is …is more powerful than any danger in the apparent world.
She knows that if she allows her spirit to be broken by life…she will surely die. And so adversity may bend her but she never breaks.
Through it all, the Wise-Woman maintains that inner Light…that tiny, mustard seed of faith…knowing that she shall rise again–reborn…renewed…reformed from the ashes of her dead self…and outmoded ways of being in the world…
In times of adversity a Wise-Woman shuts her mouth and clings to her God…
Journal Entry: July 22, 2011
The temperature index range today is 106 to 112 degrees, so I know where my ass will be for the second day in a row. It’s even too hot at night to go out walking. Guess I’ll continue cleaning the apartment for exercise. I’ll walk around the house a lot—like my mother used to do—from room to room all night long. What a mad woman and no one to help her. All she had was her job and her money—that was her Savior.
I do have compassion for her now. How great her suffering must have been all of her life—from the age of eight. And no useful help; not the rich inner life that I have always had or trained outside help like psychotherapy; or the many support groups from whom I’ve benefitted through the years. I spent most of my adult life first recognizing, then accepting and owning my wounds; and then finally doing something about them. I still am involved in what appears to be a lifelong process of healing and growth. This very act of journal writing is part of “doing the work,” clearing the passageway; purifying the vehicle the instrument through which the Creation continues to unfold…
I am so grateful for this sacred time in which to turn one hundred percent of my attention…my life energy…to my passions; to the callings of my heart. I have ceased the years-long writing and re-writing of my novel. I have kissed the ghosts of those old characters good-bye and have moved on. I completed a short story; the first in more than twenty years. I’ve entered my writing and photography into competition and am actively researching online markets for my completed short story—the first of many lined up in consciousness waiting to be heard and told.
I now give very little of my attention and energy to the never-ending stream of events, circumstances and people in my external world. I am alive again. I am free. I am blessed. I am aware of being part of a world in healing; of a reversal of human focus and expenditure of energy. I am consciously connected to the One Energy—which, I am learning is a powerful, benevolent, intelligent creative force available to everyone to be used as one chooses. It comes down to the one choice we humans have—whether or not we realize it—and that sole choice is between “God and the mammon”…Spirit or Flesh…Inner or Outer…
Finally (or is it once again!), I find myself at that crossroad of choice and I make the only intelligent choice. This time I’m sticking to it!
May the Force be with my Bertha butt!