written after learning i didn't get the only J-O-B i've every truly wanted to have

rejection. never a fun feeling. the shock. the embarrassment. the questioning of an intuition that misled you. then sadness, a new emptiness emerging, fear. sprinkled with a bit of anger and frustration and resentment. then the fatigue. the overwhelming fatigue from the resisting. wishing to forget it all during the night's sleep. on pillow, dreams interweave and overlap and reality gets blurred; was there ever really a rejection or was that whole scenario woven by my brain while i slumbered peacefully under these very covers; will i wake up comfortably, no love or hopes having been lost? and for a moment, in that in-between state where anything can be true, you weigh. slowly, carefully so as to not upset the delicate balance of the dreamlike state you're in. you weigh the options...what if it were true, this rejection? how would i deal? and the mind labors like an old truck going up a steep hill, wheels spinning on the dusty road...effort, effort, pushing, pushing. but this pushing is so hard! and seems unnecessary when that warm bed is still ours for the resting in, that warm bed of the old reality that still exists in this in-between. so we run back under the covers, hiding in the known from what is the now. and the longer we lie there under the covers of what once was we realize more clearly what now truly is. and we awaken. and we feel the heaviness of loss in our core. but up top, a window is being cracked open. and a small stream of warm sunlight is coming in. and the doves in our heart start to flutter their wings, eager to reach this new space of release and freedom...and we go on. weighted down, uplifted...incurably hopeful.

seated comfortably with legs crossed and sitting bones rooting into the floor, i turn my palms upward and breathe. slowly in, slowly out. slowly in, slowly out. small sparks of vision flash on and off, breezes of feeling come in and go out. the potentials brush across my cheeks and tickle my eyelashes. some dance away and some drift into my upward turned palms. receiving, allowing, accepting. how different for me to think of myself not as a fixed entity with a predestined path, rather a part of a wholly dynamic system where my decisions and actions effect the flow around me, determining what potentials become realities. focusing on keeping my vessel sacred and clean and unobstructed, allowing myself to be lived, allowing the messages to come through...