p20130111 185209 Not All Who Wander Are Lost | JRR Tolkienp20130111 190325 Not All Who Wander Are Lost | JRR Tolkien{some say i am a lost soul. but just because i wander, does not mean i am lost. in fact, nothing has ever made me feel more found.}

I am the seed of my mother and father.
I am the progeny of the ages of my ancestors.
I am the end of the line – my nieces and nephews left to carry the torch.
I am the contrarian, so says my dad affectionately, and I embrace it.

Outside of the cocoon that I call home, I much bolder and brighter than I really am, coming home, exhausted, to gently fall back inside myself where it is quiet.

To date, the most exciting thing I’ve done is to challenge the way things are – anywhere, all the time. How did it get to be the way it is? And why should I accept that?  I won’t, oftentimes, preferring instead to move to the music already inside me.

I have far too many rooms in the place I live, cold storage spaces for things I don’t need and which weigh down my soul. How would it be to get rid of it all? To dare live simply with little? I intend to find out.

I should like more windows than I have walls, if that is any indication of how much I crave the natural light, whether sun or moon. What would it be to live under these ruling lights alone, without the constant background noise of buzzing lightbulbs? It would be beautiful, I dare speculate.

I have been dubbed the black sheep, affectionately, whether spoken or unspoken. I am sometimes viewed as a lost soul. But just because I wander, doesn’t mean I am lost. In fact, nothing has ever made me feel more found.

I am forever. The cells of my body have always existed. If matter cannot be destroyed, only broken down, then I dare say it has always existed on the corollary.

I need truth. I crave it in all things. In relationships, in philosophy, in religion, in ideas, in art, in the food that I eat. I want everything pure and true. I want to have no room or tolerance for synthetics in my life.

The world needs love, but first, a swift kick in the pants.

To live is to grow – your garden, your intellect, your soul’s estate, your heart. To live is to understand, and be in harmony with nature and the laws of God.

It is one of my deep frustrations in life that I shall never get to read all of the books that line my shelves. There are many good choices, but there is only so much time. I could spend my lifetime studying and really understanding perhaps just one section, instead I dabble, here a little, there a little, never committing or excelling in one area.

I would choose to live in an agrarian society, where people depended on the work of their hands in the dirt to toil for their own food. I would live in a day without industry, which has only made our lives more busy, and less rewarding, I presume.

Before falling asleep, I think about all the things I’d rather be doing that I am simply too tired to do. As much as I love my bed and laying next to my love, I am frustrated by all the time lost. I need a lot of sleep.

Right now I am happily wearing a silk robe with Geishas on it. My dad brought it home for me from a business trip to Korea he took in the 80′s. I was just a young girl, and remember wondering why he brought me a big robe fit for a woman? Now I couldn’t be happier that he did.

As early as 4th grade I have kept the secrets of my friends who often seem drawn to confide in me. Regretfully, I have kept my own secrets, mostly born of shame.

My sister makes me laugh. More than anyone – well, other than myself. I really do crack myself up, and I noticed actually just over this past Christmas that my father does the same. He really cracks himself up. I like that I get that from him. But, when I get around my sister, it usually ends up in a fit of giggles over everything, over nothing. They are some of my favorite times.

My favorite time of the day? Usually afternoons. I dread getting ready for the day, what a waste of time. I dread that time just before I surrender to evening before bed, I don’t want the day to be over. Any afternoon I allow myself to indulge in leisure - a good book or a good painting, is a good day for me.

Silence. It’s music to my ears. It’s golden. It’s warm and embracing. It’s freedom. It’s a cold snowy day when I’m out feeding the animals and all stay warm inside, leaving only the sounds of the snow crunching beneath my feet.

When I leave this life, I want to remember that I tried with all my soul to know truth, to live truth, to be truth, even at the risk of losing everything.

*art and journaling exercise for Face to Face by Misty Mawn. It’s not too late to sign up!

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