folded and unfolded and unfolding

hey y'all

since i last wrote i have been mostly dealing with the tumult of a 'dark week of the soul' (st john of the cross: you had it easy man!).

after facing down the demon of aloneness last thursday and yet feeling so positive on friday and on into saturday that i'd got through it, i wasn't prepared for having to go through further nights where, with the number of demons coming to visit, i'd have been forgiven for thinking i was in an episode of Buffy.

saturday and sunday were both particularly hard and the aftershocks rippled on...

by wednesday night i felt i'd come to the edge of my capabilities when finding myself in another rapid descent into a sense of lostness that felt both bereft and bewildered, and overwhelmed by irrational fears of being despised and deserted for my weakness that frighten me to recall. i was not only selling myself short in those doubting moments.

emotional and physical exhaustion met with that joyous blessing of womanhood called PMT and so today i found myself unsurprisingly calling in sick, when i found my insides seemed to be trying to rip their way out and having to battle with powerful vertigo. not how one would prefer to wake up of a morning.

so having napped for a few hours, i'm sitting at the kitchen table and taking things in deliberate slow motion and listening to beautiful sarah's ::dreamlife of angels:: and relaxing as pain subsides and a clarity of being prodigally returning with each cup of sweet tea. i feel like i am coming back to myself, and even if feeling a little diffuse around the edges, i'm aiming for a spirit of welcoming.

but the rockiness of the past 7 days has not been without its good moments. there were many. music, movies, books, conversations, correspondances, poetry, embraces, smiles and simple texts of kind intent all cutting through the aloneness. and so i find myself with a memory from each day of frequently profound connection and inspiration and persistant support from those around me. and in the recognition i'm welcoming back a hopefulness that looks something like belief.

the Dr got the keys of his new home today and so last night we shared our nightly pot of tea and he read me a deeply touching poem he'd composed to mark his departure. but we embraced the end of sharing the same space with an intentional casualness. he'll be dropping in and out and so we made no big fuss. i think he knows well how much i hate goodbyes. so we made it au revoir.

if i have learnt anything these past few months, it is that one can deal with so much more than you expect when you are willing to open yourself to the possibility that those around you actually do care. and that awareness has to go hand in hand with your own caring of yourself and others.

it seems like standing on a stage by yourself being blinded by lights so strong you cannot see anything in the auditorium but being aware that in the wings are a whole troupe of folks willing you on. and and so if i have any courage it is in great part because of that chorus of support. one can only do this alone. but one is not alone at all...
and i can only hope to not forget that i in turn am part of the choruses that are willing on others around me. gareth and i watched ::topsy turvy:: last night, and gilbert's wife announces that wouldn't it be nice if ordinary people were appluaded at the end of each day.
i'm inclined to agree.

in the reminding i am as ever surprised and gratified. or indeed, gratitudinal, which i just prefer somehow.

i've more to share but please excuse me for the timebeing as i've taken to a notion to go learn origami...

::
life. love. god.
which of these is not like the other?
::

LB, x