Yesterday
was a good day. The fog lifted and the clouds parted and, for a few moments, I
was able to see the goal - my fondest hope, that elusive city on a hill - and
move forward with a smile on my face.
Today the mists have returned, as dense and miserable as they ever were, and I am utterly lost with the whispers of my heart and the loving nature of my God as my only guides through this dejection and anger. The dejection is actually easier to handle than the anger. I can speak with it and keep putting one foot in front of the other as the path presents itself. The anger is trickier. I can't escape it and suspect that I may need its services to survive the coming days but, for now, it is a siren luring me into actions and words I know I will regret later. It is so compelling, though, and it feels good.
Today the mists have returned, as dense and miserable as they ever were, and I am utterly lost with the whispers of my heart and the loving nature of my God as my only guides through this dejection and anger. The dejection is actually easier to handle than the anger. I can speak with it and keep putting one foot in front of the other as the path presents itself. The anger is trickier. I can't escape it and suspect that I may need its services to survive the coming days but, for now, it is a siren luring me into actions and words I know I will regret later. It is so compelling, though, and it feels good.
Today is a bad day.
-Zonoma
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