I'm My Own Grandma

It is interesting that these two young people are coming home at the same time.

Candace, my granddaughter. The wannabe princess. Who is so much more already than she longs to be. But she values these qualities very little. The very things I love most about her.

And Tom, my nephew by marriage. The rebel warrior who refuses to fit into mainstream society in any way. Lives a bit like a gypsy except for remaining in the same place. He will arrive a few days from now.

Before going to sleep last night, I said a prayer for any ancestors that needed prayers. This is not something I have done before. Someone else recently made me aware of reasons for doing this.

Strangely enough, it was a young part of myself that I dreamt of. She came knocking at the door of the house I grew up in.

The second dream I had was of Tom arriving early - knocking at the door of the house I live in now. I opened the door to the darkness - then began feeling vulnerable as I became more aware of the darkness I was facing.

The words of wisdom that came my way this morning - "You stand in your own light. Make it shine."

Recluse

This is my home - my refuge - my sanctuary.

Here I am as safe as one can be from the world at large.

Or, like Rapunzel, am I a prisoner of my own making.

It does not matter.

For now, it is where my heart desires to be.

Maybe I am just digesting all that has transpired the last two years while I have been so actively involved in the outside world.

But here I am - snug as a bug in a rug. With no desire to be anyplace else. Surrounded by my books and papers. Words that tease my senses - safely.

Journeying to inner worlds. Exploring new dimensions. Excited by the possibilities.

I have done this before - several times. And have always unearthed buried treasures. Tools that make my life different than before.