Asking

I have to learn to stop asking the universe for things.

I told someone at the beginning of last year, “You know what? If I lose Y, the world better be prepared for what comes out of me because the art that comes out is going to be something.”

I heard the death nell in the air when I said it, like an church bell giving one sure toll. I could feel the reverberations in my chest, the tone in my ear is clear as if the waves had landed on my ear drum.

Then, I lost her. With her went the words I had hoped to cover pages with, they were all used up in the crossing of the finish line.

Fool.

I REALLY have to learn to stop asking the universe for jack shit.

I asked the universe to help me have a reason to write, to create. Since then, I have had two more loses. This last one? A critical hit. Now, words fight behind my teeth to be the next to reach the light of day. Sadly, I am not sure they have any message yet but the need to set them free is overwhelming…so, I do my best to muscle them into some semblance of order. I am sorry that you, “dear reader,” fall victim to their meandering. They need somewhere to go. I figure I can, at least, corral them here.

I think one of the most important things I can cling to is the idea that everything is happening for the highest and best good, not only for me but also for those around me. I need not fear even the flood. After all, who knows what will grow from the newly deposited silt? Again, and still, I need only honor what is at my finger tips. Doing my best to fashion something that points in the direction I hope to go.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Selah.