Its the trick of words, how limited they are, no matter how many of them you know...
Like mustard, light can be thick, hard to understand, weighty, hard to see through, exciting, and yet glaring.
Light. mustard.
Two of my favorite things, plus I love onions too. I really, really do. a lot.
Sometimes the enormity of Love can weigh down the heart, in my case. What I feel for my boys mixes with fear and worry and that mix is oily, cloying. If I could stop carrying the worry and the fear about their behaviour, what they 'look like' to the outside world and all the fears and worries that I have for them, and for me, then the light of the love would be quite glorious and more constant than the muck that I carry now. Its all my choice, none of this fear and worry is necessary or forced onto me, none of it. How will it look to choose not to carry it? How will that feel? To already be letting go of them? oh my. OR will I be holding them up in my light and in their light? holding them up, rather than holding on?
The whole search for the light within is good, it is changing the way I pray on a daily basis. So little need for the outsiders of desire, ritual, form, format... just a search for the light within and for those things which perhaps enable me to access my light more readily. and sometimes, its desire, ritual, form and format. dig? I do feel like I'm shuffling off some unneeded weights, loosing the hair, patting the overlarge belly, accepting the lassitude in colds, moving right along.
evidently, i belong.
COLOURED TELEVISION, by Danzy Senna
10 hours ago
1 comments:
if i could think of anything that sounds as good as your words, i'd comment everyday. for reals.
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