And that's okay. Really.
I wanted to share about the amazing experience of Candlelight Caroling at Disneyland (sometimes referred to as "My Hometown"). Not long after I wanted to share about reuniting with my LOGgers at the LOG Christmas party (LOG stands for Love of God, by the way) and how uplifted my spirit was after seeing them. Then I wanted to reflect on the sadness I felt recently about witnessing a family reach their breaking point. And then I became - somehow - embroiled in a huge, disgusting drama about what is deemed to be appropriate and inappropriate for today's Orthodox Christian.
Done. I shared them all. Boom. In one, fell swoop I clued you all in on the delights and struggles of my life as of late. Well, sure - there's always more to a story, but I don't really feel like going into any of them right now.
Instead I want to share an experience I had while I was (finally) falling asleep last night. I felt unsettled and frustrated, angry and hurt. A million words were flying through my head. Words people said in anger or in defense, to hurt or to soothe. Words I wanted to say. Words I knew I shouldn't say. Words danced around, in and out of my grasp, until I became frustrated not only at the situation I found myself in, but at the words that usually came so easily.
I love words. I think words are - truly - awesome. I love that words can communicate, distract, enlighten, darken, heal, hurt... There is power in words. There is play in words. There is joy in words. There is a certain melody and dance to the rhythm of words, and I love to play with it.
That being said, I get very clear mental images sometimes. They frighten me sometimes because they come from nowhere and can be so clear and vivid that I find myself distracted from reality, if only for a moment. Usually I find words to accompany the picture - that tends to come easily enough. A descriptor, a mood to the image comes to my mind and I find myself back in my comfort zone, the land of words.
Last night, as I was drifting off to sleep I had a vivid picture appear in my mind. It was a picture of me. I picked up a piece of broken glass, the piece of a mirror, and I saw my reflection. This reflection shocked me. It was not me, or anything that I thought resembled me.
My reflection was a lioness. A lioness that gave me a smile of sorts, a homecoming, a "so glad you finally figured this out," kind of a look.
I drifted off to sleep with a smile on my lips. I would never have assumed to be a lioness. A bird, sure. I can definitely be flighty at times. Mayhap even a horse. I enjoy a certain amount of freedom, but am a homebody and a hard worker. But a lioness? No. She is fierce. She is strong. She is a fighter. She may not be as delicate as some animals, nor as exotic as others, but she is a force with which to be reckoned.
When I woke up today I could actually feel her - my - power. As I pushed out of bed I saw in my mind's eye her shoulders as she pushed to standing. As I went throughout my day I felt in myself a new kind of power - new but not foreign, as if it had been waiting for me to claim it, to own it. I became glad of a new facet to my identity.
I am a lioness.
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| Look out, world. |
