The trouble with being a clairvoyant is that blissful ignorance is never an option.
Spending 24 hours pacing my home like an anxious, caged animal. Stretching and breathing and cleaning and stretching more and painting scraps of wood and crying and working and just laying on the floor, holding my heart.
With no sense as to why...and yet knowing full well.
Denial and Hope what a peculiar pair they are.
When the truth finally hits, though tragic, my sixth sense can breath a sigh of relief because, yet again, she was accurate in her messaging.
Moving forward, I need to work on synchronizing her and I so we operate in real time lock step.
I think that would save me a lot of time currently spent rolling around on the ground.
(that was supposed to be comic relief)
I am grateful to know that I truly do deserve better.
Because I can't say that has always been the case.
Next step: Internalizing the truth that Better Exists.
Which, with just one fatal flaw in a lengthy list, is a tough reality to accept.
But that's the nature of fatal flaws, isn't it?
If I have faith that the entire planet deserves better with its' Neo-cons and Boko Haram and ISIS and Patriarchy.
If I can fathom that despite all the inevitables, somehow, better exists for the World.
Then surely I can apply the same to the microcosmic of self.
It's a matter of probability,
a numbers game.
I'm not a fan of games.
(hashtags always make things seem more believable)