I am in one of my moods.
I am realizing that at my age, and life experience, moving and being challenged with a new job, new place, etc.. its not enough. Not that I don't have enough challenges, but the reward of life needs a boost. I am just like any other human being, fears, sadness, joy, peace, hopes, dreams... they all come and go.
More than ever it's important I maintain ties with those that are important in my life, family, friends, coworkers... the older I get the more I will write, the more I will express whats important and not be afraid or ashamed to do so.
My brain needs to be expanded more... I need to keep learning new stuff. I need to hurry up and do things, alone or not.
I feel like I need to scream at people that they are valuable, loved, they are needed, they have purpose. I thought about writing a book today, one of probably a million I have thought of.... but how God speaks to us all the time, if we just listened. How he shows up, if we just looked. But life (such as we call it) puts us on this production line of distraction that just to be able to get home and get to bed at a decent hour not having overlooked something important (God forbid) like taking the garbage out or checking the mail.... is a blessing. Is refuge, is what we call peace. A few hours a night to get away and escape. The book would be a mulitude of pictures, drawings of dreams, and visions - each one representing some truth, some lesson or divine wisdom, that I know comes from God. Hoping that it would change someone's life, that I could give them a glimpse of what I know to be true.
I feel so fortunate at times and so cursed at others.
I walked by my mother's picture the other day and for a moment became aware of a truth so stark, so revealing, so ...so real that it scared me. That truth is that through her death and through my experience with the out of body episode, when I was in heaven..... that there is nothing more that I live for really, than to be there again. How ironic. Sometimes I will pick up a picture of her and just look at her face, and go back to that place in time, to experience her again, its real. Then suddenly the breath feels like its knocked out of me and I regain my senses and find myself in this reality.
Other times, I relive the experience in heaven, and if it were possible for a heart to cry, mine does. It aches, it longs, it is connected to something I can't see, can't touch, and can hardly explain to others. It ruined me in ways.
I wish, so much I could just take someone's hand and show them. Just show them. But I can't. And it frustrates me.
I dream so much. Almost every night, sometimes they make sense, sometimes not, but more often they are lessons, answers, indication of something I should learn or focus on or share with someone else.
I know I am rambling a bit now, but my mind is on auto pilot more and more, and I have to get some of it out.... so you get to be the honorable recipient. You know me like no other. You know my heart, perhaps even my soul. And it's safe to share with you.
Someday I hope, I really hope I am that old man, up in the mountains, high above the hustle and bustle of the world below... listening, watching and waiting....