When St. Paul had his experience on the road to Damascus,  it unnerved him so that he took a year off from his preaching to recover.  He of course had his groupies waiting on him.  When my world crashed and I was hospitalized,  the doctors asked me to speak to a large room of psychiatrists to answer their questions.  Would I?  I would.  Though I look back on that young woman of 35 and wonder her courage.  Few women have had a cosmic experience,  mostly men are quoted.  The nearest a doctor in that audience came to understanding was asking if I was a Rosicrucian .  I was not but understood the question.  From that experience I began peace-ing myself and learning.  I was the parent on premises with no time off and the children and I needed our world stable.   I think in learning about myself,  my desire for stability in the physical setting made internal growth possible.  My devotion and dependability in maintaining the household allowed spiritual changes their freedom. Only of late have these years been evident to me.  By keeping my eyes on the physical acts of maintenance,  the looming changes did not restrict me.  Meals to prepare,  vacuuming  needed doing,  dogs to be put out.  While the body does its due maintenance,  the mind  in conference with its Teacher soars.  And changes are wrought.

Habits. . .

The thud of the back door
as it swings shut,
the sound of keys
clinking to their place on the stairs,
tell me, even in my sleep
that you are home.

Small things noted,
giving rise to habits observed,
a sense of ritual
to a life filled with them.

We continue rituals
for without them is lost
our practise of life.
We continue to do those things
over and over,
for if we miss once,
we may lose us whom only we know.

And we do not trust ourselves enough
to know when a thing is good.