Birds of a Feather …
I thought about writing a post about something, but I neither can articulate it or form words on paper. Not even a computer screen. Is it an over-reaction, a daydream gone viral in my brain? I know well how imaginative I can be, and how strong my grip is when I want something. Hard-headed is my middle name. I ask God often for my will to sync with His. There are so many things that I want, and these first three sentences started out to be about one in particular, but now I realize I am writing about a dozen, maybe a thousand.
I don’t want to allow myself to believe that it’s all set in stone, because nothing ever really is. Well, some things, yes, when part of the bigger and more divine plan, but letting myself see illusions that I’d call signs could be detrimental. I’m no superstitious gal, but let’s just say I don’t want to jinx it.
I just don’t want to be like I have in the past.
I don’t want to control anything because I now know I simply can’t. I’m finally learning this and understanding this. I have passed the reigns to God and I am confident in Him, but I still wonder about certain things. Dreams melding from my days into my sleep-filled/sleepless nights, record stores, bravery that comes like a harsh wind and thins out to a slight whisper so quickly, I couldn’t tell you when it happened. Friends of another time, another place and if there birds of a feather for someone like myself. The color orange, finding peace within solitude, chocolate, and stars. Head back in the wind under a bright full moon, car racing, listening to a blue boy sing words that my heart lurches onto, feeling understood.
Where am I heading?