Something beyond comprehension came and took over me. I know it happened, I know when it happened, I know how it happened. The remnants of it still remain, and yet, I cannot recall it or explain it, not in in any way that shows how it was, why it was or how it can even be. It apparently only existed in my mind but then didn’t – it was a timeless (or timely), universal thing of complete connection, complete submission, complete transcendence. Not hours, not days, but months of pure pain and bliss – automaton and acceptance, love and light, armour and silver hearts to guide the way, walking in a dream of wonder. Still wondering.
I know it’s a blessing few experience.
It came from the darkest depths of my life, swallowed and washed me clean. I asked for it without knowing; it came like the ocean, building for a lifetime and crashing down on me in an instant with continued ebbs and flows, taking me down – drowning – and then lifting me up – floating.
Music is what speaks of it. I hear it there. I know other’s experience of it in music. That’s how I best remember.
And my journal.
I miss the euphoria, the complete abandonment, the depth of letting go into complete trust of the universe, the knowing.
I made art, I wrote, I was found, I promised myself to make so much space so it would stay, right there, all around me, this other way of being – me, walking in both worlds always. But it faded with the tipping of the scales. When the time came to do what I needed to and rise to the challenges of everyday. This is where I am, in the everyday, mostly mundane, tame, getting stronger, proud.
There’s a pause, a moment to catch my breath, regroup and reflect. The longing is fervent and nostalgia creeps in. I want to escape, be taken over, but my duties remain and so must I. For now.
But I must not be wanting; I will take solace in the minute, the simple, and the everyday wonder.
Remember.
“Not everyone is lucky enough to understand how delicious it is to suffer.”
“Only the really plain people know about love – the very fascinating ones try so hard to create an impression that they soon exhaust their talents.”
- Katharine Hepburn