“All that I have written seems to me like so much straw compared to what I have seen and what has been revealed to me.” Yes, Thomas Aquinas, I quote you again, those words which I have shared time and time before with the eyes on the other side of the publish button. I am in Australia again, as I am every twenty-four months or so. The leaves are amply green and beyond the window where I sit a large buddha emerges from fern. Everything changes, and nothing has changed. I returned to my childhood house, a house I remember well, and in twelvish years, it has evolved into something that is not that house. The spindly trees I once climbed are thick and tall now, and certain fabrics have faded and frayed at the edges. Still, the same old woman walks down and up the street twice a day. She is now nearing 90, her Austrian things fill her house and her husband attempts Sudoku every day. This is what I hear.
As I comb through my writing from years gone now, I am struck by how many words I have penned. Hundreds of thousands to be precise. More than the striking, is the sound; the gong-like reverberation in my heart and soul when I realize that I have accomplished what I always set out to accomplish as a writer… and without knowing it until now. Yes, at times I think all I ever wanted was to be ‘published’ by some great publishing house from yesteryear, to be accepted into the ranks of those writers I have so cherished. The reverb alerted me to the fact that I am with them. Your comments, reflections and contributions over these years have shook me to the bone, trembling with a kind of atomic disturbance which threatens to pulverize the very walls I have built around my heart as a human being.
The full realization that I have touched, inspired, encouraged, gave hope, energy, and stamina to so many individuals just like me, all around this terraqueous globe, blows my mind. The fact that I’m still here, still writing, unnerves me a little. Will I ever cease? It is easier to keep going than to stop. So, where does one end, in the land of blogging? I suppose one never arrives at any end. All this writing will be in book form before I know it, by my own hand (yes, because ‘behind every successful woman is herself’) and I will continue to do what I know to do. Which is express this very unique experience of being me.
It seems I am still me, and yet, I find the landscape of my soul slightly differentiated from that which it was two years ago. I just read from an earlier post, that I felt ‘less like myself’ and yet ‘more like myself’ at the same time, which I found interesting because we are always changing. We are a swift succession of selves, none of which are permanent. Who I am today is not who I was yesterday, and will not be who I am tomorrow. So there is something interesting about why we keep doing certain things – mostly out of habit, of course, but some things we do simply because we must.
This year has been the swiftest of all time, for me, filled with new responsibilities, new landscapes to navigate – yet with none of the dread, fear, fatigue nor sadness I once carried with me. Finding the mirror through which I witness my own love has been the most transcendental experience. I always hoped, while climbing that mountain towards the flicker of an image of a kindred spirit, that I would find someone or something that understood me, cherished me and held me with a heart bigger than I knew my own to be. I summited that mountain, all the while inspiring guitarist’s like you, Chuck, if you’re out there (Chuck once wrote: “How is it possible that a writer can inspire an amateur guitarist so much? You inspired me with this post more than the other guitar players who are actually my influences!!! I will keep climbing to the top of the mountains of guitar”) and thankfully I found that the flicker of a light had a face, and it’s name was Isaac.
How do I even begin to describe what that felt like? How do I go back to writing about my inner landscape, when it simultaneously imploded and exploded with a cosmic mixture of joy, love and relief? All I have written… seems like so much straw…. compared to what I have seen and what has been revealed to me. So, I have abstained from trying to do it all justice with these words. Instead, I have danced upon the sands of time, conquering their slips and slides by flitting across them. There is no need to collapse, anymore. I have taken on my dreams, and while they have been many and magnetic, none of them are so heavy that I could not handle them. More are arriving! I am light, I am lifted, I am love.
I continue now to speak with you, because I can’t help it. I can’t stay back. Something about this place, this space, calls to me. It is you. I hope that my writing reaches many and more people, and that I can be of service to my peers, those of all ages, you in the trenches, you in the clouds, and that we may see more of each other very soon.
For now, this is all I have.
From an incredibly grateful, atomically expanded woman, named Sophie.