Diary of a Heretic

I once was a sleeper, oblivious to the cycles and the seasons of life; I had been temporarily disconnected from my own innate intuition. I did not know how to look to the earth, the moon and the stars for the sign posts. But eventually I became awakened and began to perceive and understand the patterns and threads that merge and weave and form the tapestry I call my life. I realize now that there is no such thing as coincidence; everything happens for a reason, and over time you become conscious of the emerging pathways and how your life interchanges and connects under some surreptitious plan.

Each season brings me a deeper understanding of life; it doesn’t necessarily make my life easier, in fact sometimes I believe being on this path makes my quest so much harder. I am going through a time of inner turmoil this winter; an aspect of my life is disintegrating, a necessary process to allow me more freedom. It is not so much the process that is causing my discontent but my resistance to this disintegration. This fear of the unknown, this fear of jumping into the abyss, this enveloping darkness that encompasses and fills me with such anguish. I know if I just let go and allow myself to move with the flow that the light will emerge and all will be well. This winter of my discontent will pass I know and my life will hopefully be better for it. It is just one small step at a time – there is no turning back.

The Abyss

I have journeyed to the abyss balanced on its rim
Swaying precariously as paper fanned by wind
Staring blindfolded into a void spectral and dim
Feeling as tense like walking on string

I am at the edge of a precipice looking down
The world a swirling vortex as my life spins around
Contemplating circles and the questions of time
Transient and eternal thoughts lay like lead on my mind

Visions of clinging to the dirt in the ground
Fingers anchored like tendrils as I quietly fall down
Voices whisper conundrums like echoes abound
And moves as a mist caressing with sound

Eons suspended like the hanged man with nails
Time passes by me as a breeze in the sails
My soul’s eternal quest from journeys present and old
I am now poised on the brink as the answers unfold

Janine
June 9, 2008