it happened two days ago. the day before thanksgiving. a preparatory miracle, for the holiday.
i awoke and i knew. immediately, i knew. before my swollen feet had even hit the cool, creaking floor, i knew. it had passed, lifted, moved on.
or perhaps it had simply moved through.
this bout of blue was done.
it sounds so naive, doesn't it? so simple? you wake one day and it's no more. but that's how it was. that's how it is.
an energetic shift, a tilt. like moving your weight from your heels to the balls of your feet.
what struck me this go round--in the immediacy of the lifting fog--was the absence of fear that colored the last three months. that was the difference.
i awoke without fear. the kind that presses in on your chest, makes breathing difficult--a low grade panic you learn to deal with, resign yourself to.
but upon waking two mornings ago, i felt fearless, unafraid, filled by such faith. faith that all will work itself out. that i will find meaning, find purpose, fulfill a calling, be filled with such love as is written and talked about and dreamt of.
and in the presence of such faith, the other things fade. it's not that they disappear or have no place, but the focus shifts and they recede, find their proper place. it is the turn of the lens and the subsequent clarity.
order restored.
and the return of words. suddenly the delicious, glorious onslaught of words! welcome back, old friends. welcome home.
i can't tell you for sure what caused the shift. whether it was the fresh flowers i bought this week, or the new haircut. i don't know if it was the popcorn and small glass of white wine i had the night before last at one in the morning after returning home from work.
maybe it was the moment a month ago when i literally felt God unfurl himself within my chest. great flaps of wings spanning the width of my shoulders.
the week in texas helped, i'm sure. walks on the bayou. walking, moving, energizing the body.
maybe it was the necklace that's meant to symbolize open-heartedness that sits flush against my chest. or the men's gingham shirt that i got from the gap and makes me feel sexy in a way few dresses ever have.
maybe it was the consistent and constant love of those who so kindly support me.
i don't know which of the small things did it, which of any of the things i've done day after day over the last three months caused the shift. perhaps it was the accumulation of all of them.
it's alchemy. magic. or just a moving through.
the trick is not forcing the shift. it's preparing for it. being ready so that you can catch it as it rushes past you. and then holding on as it takes off. a willingness to go along for the ride.
does any of this make sense?
hmm. maybe it doesn't need to. maybe some things are best left in that realm of half-sense, half-absolute-miracle.