Word Weaver

Balance in these trying times.

A piece I wrote a year ago that I’m resharing because it’s where I am today 🖤 and there’s a whole lot of new friends here that missed it. So enjoy this little replay dear reader friends. I’m so glad you’re here! Big magical love to all of you. 🖤

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I often feel alone in the world and then someone somewhere says something that I resonate with and I’m reminded, of course I’m not alone! A dear friend calls me a word weaver, this inflates my head a little bit and I puff up with a sense of fragile pride. I say fragile because at any given moment I will knock myself down a few pegs and say “oh, but you’re only trying to be clever, it’s not real”. Funny how the mind works sometimes, meant to keep us alive, but can be devastatingly destructive. Words in my mind falling like bombs onto fragile pride and housing for the innocents.

I find myself gravitating towards more good things lately to try to make sense of or at least balance out the destruction. I think my algorithms are confused, I watch a video of explosions and men running with dying women and children, and then baby goats hopping around in pajamas. Balance. And isn’t that the job of all of us word weavers? To keep or create balance in the topsy turvy world we find ourselves in.

When I curled into my couch corner this morning I didn’t know what I wanted to write. I still don’t really, this is just a bit of a brain dump. I have all of these ideas spinning around and then I push them down because war. In the midst of it all though, words are an art that is needed. Can I paint a picture with these words?

Let’s try.

The brisk fall morning is allowing me to use my two favorite blankets, a black and red plaid made of the softest fleece coupled with a gray and white cotton and fleece with words of peace and love covering it. Their job is to keep me warm. I am cocooned in gifts from friends. And I long to take these gifts and wrap them around all of the suffering. Because I am safe and warm, I wish that for all others.

Photo by Greg Rakozy on Unsplash

My coffee has grown cold, waiting patiently for me to finish my one fingered typing on this screen. For a brief moment earlier I created a galaxy in my cup, pouring the creamer into the coffee at a slow speed caused it all to swirl like its own Milky Way. I had the funny thought - what if that’s how all universes began? Some sort of god created a giant coffee cup and swirled in all the galaxies. Words and galaxy weaver.

A few good things this week:

I found beautiful poetry and other peoples stories that made me laugh and smile and feel not so alone.

My wish for you is that you find warmth and joy and beauty and art and poetry and ways to not feel alone.

Thanks for being here ♥️