I'm on a plane flying from from Seattle to Atlanta. I'm seated next to a Japanese man who sits compactly and efficiently in his seat. He's reading a book in Japanese. He pulls a snack from his hounds tooth suit coat pocket discreetly. The crinkling wrapper is the only sound he makes. He nods off every now and then but his black felt fedora never leaves his head.
My soul is weepy today, almost panicked. I have a window seat so I can stare aimlessly at the white expanse and let these new emotions climb their way to the surface. Somewhere between the guilt of having an unused gift and the fear of stepping out, there is a new me emerging. But, it is in fact not new, because I was there all along, a cocoon in the darkness.
The light breaking in is truth. It's not truth as I've observed it, translated or interpreted it. It's Truth whispered. I've blindly clutched at it but today I can sense the time is near. I begin to hyperventilate a little and take shallow breaths.
Shallow-that's been my understanding. Knowing a reflection, a shimmering hologram of truth. But I sense the invitation is here, to go beyond the shallow to the deep, dark depths of the "Immeasurable Deep". This is it, this my my gift. Happy birthday to me, happy 43.
When I was younger, I only spoke in reverberation, not original creation. I echoed my contemporaries and fellow bloggers, circling each other like a covered wagon, repeating the same battle cry.
But now, at this point in my life, I don't want followers or subscribers, notoriety or notifications. I want to join the expanse of stars in the celestial sky that silently speak to each other, confidently knowing what was once unknown. Discovery is made for my benefit, not theirs; for they, in fact, were never lost.