I have been weepy for days. Is it all the war, the thousands of refugees and the complete disregard for human life? Is it the pain from the injury to my right arm and the connection to a past life that shows itself wherever I turn? Is it the anniversary of my mother’s passing? Is it the realization that there is no hope of reconciliation ever with someone I love so deeply? Yes. It is all these things and more.
I have not had a shred of inspiration to write for some time. The pain in my arm has been the kind of pain I have never experienced before. As I always do I look for the meaning in everything. The right arm is my dominant arm and the side of the masculine. This means I have been forced to use the left which is of course the feminine side. That in itself is rather interesting. I am being forced to rely more on the feminine side while suffering a deep and painful wound on the masculine side.
Just this morning I discovered that I cannot write by hand because it is too painful. Everything I have ever written has been by hand because there is a natural organic flow that flows through the body and onto the page. So I thought that perhaps this is another message that there is never only one way to do things.
I am by nature a happy and optimistic person. I am also a person who feels and carries much in my physical body. The emotional effects the physical. The physical effects the emotional. There are trials and initiations that bring us to our knees. There is love and beauty and magic that raises us again and again.
How many times must the Phoenix rise?