(from a recent journal entry edited only for space)
So there was no one to talk to. No one who understood the worlds I trespassed nor was welcomed in. I stayed. And took cover in what I had to do which left me open mouthed every time I heard something that belly whopped me with I cannot believe they said that! Cannot believe!
And I never learned to talk on my feet even to this day. I listen and give the speaker their time and think about what I coulda, shoulda said. But could not, did not because I do not talk on my feet. I need to think. And I can only do one thing at a time.
So I have listened. There have been a handful of good friends. Heart friends who said I was a deep thinker. I did not know what a deep thinker was. What is a deep thinker? One who listens to the silent voice within, the Comforter within, the still small voice within, the thoughts which come from a somewhere else destined for you? Because no person wants to talk to you?
And when my thoughts because I think them, originate with me I take to the wall and bang my head there, I find matched by thoughts from an elsewhere world, I know I have come home to another some place.
I was thinking this morning, sitting in the dining room and looking out in the yard, that what if I wrote with my computer what I did in the 2012 journal that there is an overriding power that undergirds this universe, or universes with the symbol >:____—–:> except there would be curving lines which I cannot do or cannot do with this keyboard but another world took them to be a primitive understanding of a physical world because this is a borning world.
With a small physical brain and said she had something there with this and then put this symbol to work with a higher element of learning, I would not the teachers said, recognize the experience as mine but within the higher learning I could take comfort that my gleanings would have meaning.
They could take this symbol and say she understood that there was a rumbling thunder that was the beginning that left in its wake what we now know as the heart’s assuagement of a yearning that is the key to understanding somewhat a birth in process of a movement.
What was thought of as a big bang theory was in reality an assuage of genetic anguish that has kept the earth in turmoil for forever it seemed with no termination. Giving it a name will eventually terminate it and chasten the ancients’ ancestors’ anguish and continue therefore a birthing process in movement. And perhaps the babe in the manger will be allowed to grow to be the adult Christ in our Heart (Emmanuel. Emmanuel god within ) and evolution will jumpstart itself.
And they will ask again, give me some of that pipe she is smoking. I like that mixture.
One response to “Words From A Borning World. . . .”
Your words elude me to talk about them Veronica, but I get a picture and feeling about the rolling thunder and it’s wake and the yearning and what it leads to.