After calling my destination, I was surprised to learn that there the sun was out and the skies were blue.
My morning and subsequent drive has been filled with gray skies and rain, remnants of a dying hurricane. Suddenly, an hour into my trip, the rains end. The dark clouds turn white with blue skies showing through. It is as if a weight lifts from my shoulders. The stress of these past several weeks seems to fall behind me on the road like the carcass of some dead creature.
I have not written in a while I know, struggling with what to say and how to say it. Some things are better left unsaid far from a public forum. I have never understood those who place their pain and suffering out for all the world to see. It is a twist on the neverending narcissism of these times.
Yet I must continue to find a way to write, to pray, for those two are synonymous for me. I am most able to make sense of the world through the words that enter and flow forth from my heart, whether it is hurting or filled with joy.
So as the storm ends and the clouds change their hue, I find that I am released again to listen and share this eternal inner conversation.
Thank you, dear reader, for your patience and presence amongst these words, said or not.