Ummmm ... Remember me...?

HOW many blogs, I wonder ... begin, every so often, with the phrase, "it's been a long time since I blogged" ...?

Well, here's another one of those.

I cannnot begin to fill in the uber-changing details of my life here ... but, suffice it to say that I have experienced great bliss, and intense pain, and more change than I thought I could endure, in a rather short expanse of time.

I am here.
I am breathing.
I am living.
I am learning.
I am experiencing.
I am surviving.
And I take it on faith that I am thriving ... even when it would appear/feel/seem otherwise.

And ... I have missed blogging. So, for today, I am blogging.

We'll see what happens tomorrow.

A friend showed up on Facebook, and shared one of her poems with me ... it was one of those "wow" moments, for it fit with something I saw, in my mind's eye, years ago ... read on:

Oh Divine Weaver,
I would not
have expected
You to use
the threads
of pain and
suffering in order
to weave a tapestry fit
to be your
covering.

You work so
silently in
the stillness.
I can never
quite catch
you at the
loom.

But I look
at this Heart
and
I Know,
I Know,
this is the
work of
your skillful
hands.

Who could
weave so
skillfully,
so compassionately,
so tenderly
as to not
tangle those
rare, and delicate
threads?

I only have eyes
to see the
underlayer -
quite messy it appears,
but I trust
that a work
of magnificent
beauty
is in the
making.

~Joan Burtner

Years ago, while in the very beginnings of this undoingness ... I remember having a "vision/image" of being on the underside of a huge tapestry ... it was being woven, above me, and I was watching. I knew it was about my life ... the problem, from my perspective, is that from "down here" it looked like a MESS! Tangles, and snarls, and knots galore ... and I could NOT, not even while squinting, make out the pattern ... it made NO sense to me. But then I knew, intuitively, that from the other side, from the "higher" vantage point, it was a work of art ... a very intentional, beautiful, even breath-taking tapestry, that was my life. Today, after not connecting with Joan for some months ... she showed up, and shared this poem ... and I am reminded ... and I am grateful. At least for this moment, I can rest in that gratitude.

Thank you.