(I don’t think it could get any more appropriate than this to describe the experience since I last posted an entry here.)
From Diana’s Grove:
I often discover that my reality has been wounded when I try to continue my old way of being. If I can’t go on as I was, my reality has been wounded. When my reality has been wounded, penetrated by a possibility – then nothing is quite the same. I can’t put my old shoes back on; they no longer fit. Truth wounds illusion. Hope wounds despair. Friendship wounds isolation. Reality is never safe. My reality has been wounded. It has a sacred wound and, therefore, a new reality has the possibility of being conceived.
Sometimes this conception has nothing to do with my apparent choices. My complacency is broken by an uninvited outside revelation and life is never again the same. Sometimes I invite the process that will bring me my sacred wound………..
Even now, I yearn for a time when I was not so aware that I have chosen my life and my work. I would like to indulge in not thinking well of, and revel in the juicy complaints and truths that don’t have the same windy force when I simply acknowledge the simple good intention of others who may choose to do things differently from me.
My old shoes don’t fit. The new ones aren’t comfortable. My way of seeing the world has been violated by these ideas. Some of my ways of getting my needs met no longer work for me. My excuses have holes in them. I have been touched and, therefore, I am changed. These four ideas haven’t damaged the integrity of who I am but they have impacted the pathology that was my identity.
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