Hafiz, the Sufi poet, is someone I feel I can relate to. (see previous posts) Passionate, spiritual, grounded. Anastasia, however, Is "upsetting". That's the only term that I can seem to find for my new literary obession. My course is set and now it's up? I'm upset about my course? I'm feeling up but now I'm course and not at all set.
Anyway, for those of you who of heard of Anastasia (seek and you shall find), you cannot read a book without being moved in some fashion, and my particular movement has been into chaos and ponderousness (I love creating new words) and I'm feeling a bit selfish about all the things that I thought were strictly my own little quirks and are now being somewhat outline and majorified by some obscure Russian book.
Like spirit songs. MIne. Or rays of knowledge. Mine. Or communication with "them". Mine. ALL MINE! I want the whole world to go away and leave me alone. I like my aloneness, like Hafiz. But now I feel challenged towards community and *gasp* goodness. I'm having second thoughts about ever reading again. Why read, after all, when one can weave.
I will continue my weaving, and I do have many more articles completed, yet somehow my camera has vanished (again) so you will have to be entertained by my photos of Gods and Godesses (laughter, I love this combo).
About spirituality: In everything, set an example by doing what it good. (And then move to the woods where no one can find you)
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