Roll up for the Mystery Tour

Whoosh, whoosh.  The cars zoom by and I remember the space of Texas.  I konw what I’m doing here, but I don’t know either.  How did I end up back here?  I’ve had a long day of reflection, of hard looking at my self.  A lot of things moved into the light of consciousness.  I’ve seen things the way they are, at least a small glimpse.  I correct my course and sail on.

Man, do I miss Madame International.  I’ve been so crazy for money, so hungry to end this cycle of scarcity that I’ve inherited.  I’ve made stupid decisions and paid the consequences of those decisions.  I have put everything into jeopardy, put the Plan into jeopardy.  I’ve reached the limits of my known comfort zone and have been propelled out of it.  That may explain some of my recent anxiety.

Recent events in my life have overturned the soil of my soul and we have found it rotting with fear.  Exposed and open, my fear is everywhere; I see it all about me.   It’s riding shotgun as I skate my brother’s truck down the wet roads, it’s looming in the future, ready to destroy my goal.  And the more I fear, the more real the fears become until they reach a threshold, surpass it and manifest themselves into collective reality.

I sat next to an intelligent woman who was nearly finished with her doctorate in psychology.  She studies a particular form of narrative therapy.  She looks at the stories of the world, the stories that we all tell ourselves about ourselves and the world we live in.  She helps people to rewrite their stories, to change their own role in their lives.  She suggested noticing every positive change, no matter how miniscule, to acknowledge the transformation we want, to nurture it until it blossoms and washes away all the rest.

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