Blood on the stage.
Well not on the stage but in the theater. No we’re not capping at each other… yet. We remain focused in the portal; we go forward in spite of all but the bumps of discord slamming incessantly at our container, and we though resolute, are affected by the constant barrage of distractions.
But it all means something. There was an accident. One of those unforseen twerks from the universe, that like all things may reverberate itself into something larger than itself. One of our young ones had a mishap that was serious and could have been much worse.
There are no coincidences, no mere accidents. The universe speaks and you either listen or suffer as it speaks louder and louder. It will get your attention one way or the other.
This has summoned up big picture thinking.
How long can you spit in the wind without drowning?
How much longer will we toil in the valley overly reliant on ingenuity
What happens when you outgrow something and no new thing has presented itself?
They say some people are in your life for a season, others for a reason, while others are there forever. The same could be said of the geographical spaces, business associates or institutions one attaches oneself too.
I outgrew at least two lovers. One day it just didn’t work anymore. I saw myself differently than they saw me and inevitably we parted ways.
Can one fall out of love with fortune. Does fortune grow stale? Can yesterday’s fortune become today’s constraint?
We all know what happens when you love your lover more than your lover loves you, the relationship begins to lack reciprocity. Someone is making a much larger effort than someone else, hearts are bound to be broken.
I am trying to stand up and the room is too small. Do I keep stooping or go through the roof. Do I shuffle myself out of the small space into the open air, survey the terrain and take off to climb yet another mountain?
I need fresh air. I need a cheering section. I need to feel met in my efforts. I need movement. I need higher ground.
I got an itch to go mountain climbing. It’s a hellacious itch. I been blaming it and ignoring it. Got it locked in the closet like a monster. I hear it eating. It’s growing.
Odd thing is I want so bad to be “Kizzy” and stay put, some where, any where, the better to build my dears. But what I want and what the universe wants are not necessarily the same. It’s best to go with flow. Even when it’s up hill.
This is not my final destination.
This is someone else’s garden.
Time for the builder to move on.
So I’m do it like it’s the last time.
Put your sun glasses on. It’s gonna get bright in here.
I got a few mountains left to climb.