everything that lives moves . . .

everything that lives moves . . .

Wednesday, March 4, 2015




I had a dream last night that I way lying in my old creaky oak bed under a heavy layer of beautiful quilts.  There was also the pine blossom pattern Appalachian coverlet that my great, great, great grandmother weaved on a loom in Arkansas in the 1850s (There is a story handed down through the generations that the tiny blood stain on this coverlet is from her husband, my GGG grandfather,  assassinated during the Civil War right on his front porch by guerrilla fighters.  Evidently they placed this coverlet over him as he lay dying.  I believe this to be true.).    And on the top of them all was my very heavy Hudson’s Bay wool Indian Point Blanket, which I found at a garage sale for twenty bucks.   

All these layers of quilts and coverlets and blankets were tucked tightly beneath the mattress, pinning me to the bed.  I couldn’t move, let alone get out of bed.  But I was strangely contented, not wanting to ever leave.  I was happy.   

I like to think this has something to do what is happening to me as I approach the middle of my life, where I’m being blessed with the presence of a few people in my life whom are helping me on my journey, blanketing me with warmth and comfort and patience, sharing this journey with me.   

There is the thought I’m beginning to find my way in this world, that I’m on a journey . . . a journey that began in 2008 when I discovered with the help of another, the peculiar spirit and intuition lying deep inside me.  And ever since it’s been bubbling to the surface in various ways, uncontrollably.  The only regret I have is not somehow realizing and opening myself to this at a younger age.  But this isn’t surprising because I never had a teacher when I was younger to guide me along the way.  And I’m not a strong person.  I sometimes need the inspiration and mentoring of others.     

I feel a tentative but warm contentment for the first time in my life, that I’ve been given clues on how to live and that I’m on a sacred journey.  And I’m lucky to have had a few kindred spirits (and several heroes and wisdom from books) to help me on this journey. 

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