That was a river. This is an ocean.

Let the painful, salty sand slip from between your hands.

It does you no service, pays you no mind.

The whole ocean is yours now, 

With it,

The sands of time, space and all of the wisps and whims of the air.

Who knew?

To grasp hold of everything, you simply had to let go.

Whew. You know when you climb, and climb over rocks, through impossible dirt and sand, tall thistles cutting you all around, and it's so hard to breathe, and you're huffing and puffing, and with everything you've got, you're calling upon the Little Engine That Could to get over that Mountain?

And finally, you notice that, either the topography is levelling out, or you're getting stronger. Breathing evens out. Legs are able to take even steps again, as each pace is not an exercise in pure, miserable drudgery.

Looking back, you note that the mountainous terrain was something of a sandhill, with its ups, downs, and rocky patches, and you vow to never, ever, allow yourself to fall into that pattern of travel again.

Fair winds.

Sometimes, we just need to remind ourselves to be faithful.

But then, we also should participate in the MIRACLE.

Memory Burst

When something or someone is not kept at the forefront of our mind, perhaps we tend to block, glaze, or gloss over whatever we need to, to make the daily neurologic processes happen.

I have been in love with, in like with, in frustration with, and in friend with someone over the last two years. We "remet" at Homecoming. I didn't know who he was, but he knew me from college. Even I am sick of this story, as it has so driven me to question my continuing worth as a woman and survivor of many things, to the extent that I am never dating again.

The other day, I had a memory flash. Once upon a time in college, the fella I was dating was doing a play at the local community theatre. I had gone to a few performances, but tickets were pretty pricey for  a college girl such as myself. In discussing the play with a good buddy of mine, who was a fraternity boy, he suggested I talk to So-and-So, "because he works over there, building sets. He can probably get you free tickets."

"So-and-So?" I remember thinking distinctly. "I can't STAND that guy."

I don't know what he'd done, to disgust me so, but apparently Past Me was repulsed by Past So-and-So. And THAT is a feeling of Girl Power from which I can springboard.