The cops got me today, for seatbelt and then suspended liscence. I’m willing to believe that settling this thing that has been hanging over me is for the best, but that’s still a hard swallow.
I talked with TBB, and she talked about the hole we try to bury ourselves in before we realize we either have to die there or to fly.
It’s possible to cover your light with mud, but that causes pain. Pain is always a message that something is wrong, that healing is required.
I have learned to cover myself with mud to keep others comfortable. But it doesn’t really help the world, and for me, it is a life of pain.
Living in that hole has been interesting, because I get to document it, get to understand it well. But it hurts.
TBB, well, she trusts that my light is beautiful. She saw it the first time we met, when we were on stage together six hours later, and she still calls on it when she needs help in contextualizing or believing. She wants me to know that before I go away, I need to see her, and she will help make that happen if required.
It’s court and lawyers and all, all to happen. It’s light and mud, but how much shining and where, well that’s hard. It’s parents who don’t want to lose, but who do want me to be happy. It’s possibilities and pain.
Mud and muck, life and light.
Some times I am afraid my light is just too much, that it’s just stupid to show it.
Some times I believe that my mother in the sky has me on a path of unfolding, and I just need to trust it.
Some times, I’m just tired.