And Then They Dropped

We can juggle many balls. We say, “we got this.” We say, “it’s fine.” We say, “I guess it’s meant to be.” We forgive, forget and move on. We do it, we do it, we do it. And then suddenly, we don’t do it any more. It is then and there the balls drop. It is then and there we stare at those colorful spheres and say “hunh?” And IF we want, it is then and there we invite presence in, we allow truth to rise, and we say “come on in” to that word vulnerability. It’s time to work its’ upmost scary magic.

This week, those balls went plop. Every single one of them. If you are a reader of my stuff (and no worries if you’re not), I hope you can feel my messages filled with silver linings. I am a silver lining person. I’m in a constant state of reflection. I reflect on the whys and hows of the people, places and dreams I encounter every single moment of every single day. I love signs and symbols and listening to my spirit guides at night. I trust in the journey we are all on, and really get excited thinking about this experience called life. I ask “Is this part of a grander plan?” 

This week, my silver lining got blurry. Basically, it disappeared. This week, I felt the most intense heaviness, sadness and anger I’ve ever experienced. This week, I saw truth I refused to see for years. This week, I said good-bye. This week, I accepted COVID as more then a call to awaken a broken earth, but as a true destroyer. This week, a woman turned to me and said “This doesn’t feel right. NONE of this feels right.” This week, I lay restless in bed thinking about the millions of people who just “want to go back to normal.” This week I said “What the fuck! Our normal was an atrocious cycle of hate, power, greed and destruction. What is normal about that?” This week, I observed our nation witness the most disgusting display of ….. honestly, I have no word or way to describe it (and my apologies for bring politics in, I just had to this time around). This week, I curled up in a ball and cried and cried and cried. This week I heard my children ask “why are you so sad?” This week, I spoke with clarity and truth. This week, I found small moments to say “we must be better. we must do better.”

And now, I sit. And now, I feel it all. 

And I say this, that silver light will return. Action will be made. We must be better. We must do better.

Thank you for reading.