inside the glass curtain

Yesterday, a friend mentioned driving. To another city. More than 15 minutes away.

I wondered to myself, “When will I do that?” As I contemplated life on the other side of the glass curtain. The glass curtain of my reality.

Inside that curtain: quieter days than I’ve lived in so long. One after another. With names like Monday and Tuesday, but otherwise, one day and then the next.

And yet, the differences are notable.

The inside of the house, “my cave”, is slowly being transformed. Art that I had stored away has reappeared, thanks to Ariella. And is hanging in the light of day.

With it, I see and feel: those times in my life. Times when I was open open open. Other times when I was very specific, tight. Times of expansion. Then pulling back.

And, when I started in again doing my art, I was initially feeling contracted. That was before the art appeared. Or, rather, reappeared.

And I felt the invitation to allow in another energy. Easier. Gentler.


At a time when that seemed unlikely.

I don’t know if you’re finding this happening to you. In this time of great seriousness. That those softer moments. Those tokens of gentler times. Those seem even more potent.

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