Hey. It’s been a while. Not that I haven’t had anything to say, more along the lines I had too much to talk about that it became overwhelming and I had no real storyline and not a clear thought of where to start. Life is always busy and stressful as I’m sure you can relate. Even just getting up an out the the door in the morning can be hectic and seem more than I’m capable of some days. But then other days I feel like, yeah I’m on top of the world. But in the in between days, in the monotonous times, I feel why bother writing? There’s nothing that makes me stand out from the rest. Nothing extravagant and special that should make me stand out from the rest. Nothing different that would make my story interesting enough to others to read. Yet I see readers checking my site all the time even though I haven’t posted in over a month, and I think, well maybe I did have something intriguing that people wanted to hear about. Maybe they did want to hear the story about when Z had to get stitched last week after she slipped at school. Or maybe people around the globe want to know how conversion Little E and I had this week about the hard thing I overcame in which I told him about the choice to leave his dad. We’ve been working through a big life journal I got each of the kids for Christmas and each week it has a different topic we discuss. This week was overcoming a hard thing in life. Anyways after I reviewed the situation with him, he shared his feelings of how he felt sorry for E and how it wasn’t his fault. I had to sit there biting my tongue. I wanted to cry. After all I’d been through he felt bad for him? After all I’ve done for you over the past six years you choose his side? But I remained calm and had to understand that he wasn’t taking a shot at me, he was more showing compassion for E regarding his mental health issues which I was explaining for the twentieth time. I realized Little E in that moment showed more maturity than many adults by showing sympathy for another human instead of jumping to anger. So I had to do the same. But most likely, the readers who are checking in, want to know what’ new in the world of consciousness. I know this because last night was the most important, fresh, scary, real, and knowledge filled experience yet. Which is why I’m writing. (Sorry for the awful grammar but I’m on my sons iPad and I can’t space and make new paragraphs for some reason). Anyways, so last night, I smoked some weed for the first time this year. I had been holding off for a while now because of what I had chopped up to paranoia. But I just felt a huge desire to last night. Not in a craving way. Not in a addicting way. Not in a “if I don’t get this I’m gonna go crazy way”. Just a peaceful pull. Also before I continue, or in the middle or it doesn’t matter where I mention this it’s all together, I’ll say I started going back to church in the fall sometime. It’s been wonderful. Well the preaching is not the best but the worship is what I’ve been missing. It’s like I can get to a point where the world melts away and it’s just me and …. the everything of the world holding me. Actually more accurately I’m not even there. So when I say I’m floating, “I’m” is just the knowledge of me. And the remembrance of when the music is done, to come back to the body I maintain. Anyways, back to last night. I smoked the smallest bit of weed. And turned on some familiar music videos that I enjoy singing to. Normal weed induced high followed, until the voices weren’t coming from the phone, they came in a quick instant from my head. SAY WHAT? Yeah🤯. So I turned right quick and listened, and the voices in the tone of who had been talking on the phone continued in my head. Weird, crazy talk you’re thinking. You’re assuming it’s a standard high. Weed paranoia, you think. Until the voices closed in around me and melted my room. I reached out to touch my walls and they weren’t there. I placed my hands in front of me and the bed was not below me. I felt my cat (can’t remember if I told you all we adopted a cat in the fall…. he poops everywhere 🤬) with one hand and he went in and out with my thoughts. If I thought him there, like if I remembered him, I could touch him, but I had to think, like actually think the thought that cats purr, and then I would hear him. Like my thoughts were only being produced through the small tunnel between my outstretched hands. They were no longer coming from my head, where my thoughts normally originate. It’s like I could change the source of my thoughts and how many I thought at once. Like tunnel vision or something, but so very narrow and controlled to think the very minimum of 3-4 at once. The ticking of the clock dissolved. The blackness of my room was gone. There was no light, no dark, no time, no fear, no pain, no past hurt. Not even the acknowledgement of my body or the room I was in, Like it was just the very minimalistic thought of my fingertips, not even my hands or arms attached, but just my fingers reaching out for the cat. And then in an instant, I wasn’t even my fingers. I rolled off the tips of my fingers and was held in the consciousness of the world. And the voice of the world which was not my own spoke to me. Confirming to me that it would hold me there, to make sure this time I remember. Because apparently the last few times it has tried to teach me that there was more than me I didn’t fully believe. Maybe because if my immense hurt. Maybe because if the huge walls I’d placed. Maybe because of the doubt in the world. It doesn’t matter, the maybes are endless. What matters is that I was held there. Long enough to remember, but not long enough to be fearful of not returning this time. And I was told I’m loved. Among so many other things. I was told I’m loved. And that each of our journeys is different. And slowly but beautifully I was placed back in C’s body tied with a lovely bow and reminded I am loved and looked over always. And I recognized that in this life I have been looked after all along. Cared for and guided. There is an inner thought and an outer expression that work together, but in my life I wasn’t allowing the connection to take place. I severed the connection forever ago. But know I’ve felt the beauty it holds. Were there repairs that had to be made? Most definitely. I feel both side held animosity towards each other, which allowed damage to be made, but now we are beginning to understand each other better as we learn to listen, allowing the love to flow better to both sides, healing what it may. And it feels like everything I’ve been looking for.
-Closer Than You Know/Hillsong United-