Practice Writing

I haven't been practicing my writing this week - much...
So, here, i have a bit of quiet time, since i'm doing laundry too. It's rainy outside and i'm letting the kids work upstairs.

I was going to write about my experience last weekend in Tom's shamanic healing circle, but somehow, i can't quite talk about it right now. I don't know. Maybe it needs to bubble a little bit more inside.

Lately, i've been tired. I've had this yucky cough and sinus thing for about two months. No fever, just the crap. I've also noticed that i'm tired because i kept chasing after things that weren't going anywhere - and used a lot of energy that way.

There's a lot to be said for spending all of one's energy. That way, at least i know i tried. Somehow, i feel like i'm trying to break some old patterns by pulling back and away. I've even started work on my thoughts, although sometimes when i try to stop thinking about something, it seems to build up later. hmmm.

I have gotten a couple of e-mails from the old boyfriend about classes he's giving. After so many months of no communication, there it is. I haven't responded. It's not easy for me, though. There's a part of me that wants to ask him why, but i can't imagine that he would have a response that would do me any good. Repeating the on again off again thing and hoping it would change. That sounds a lot like crazy. Doing something over again and expecting a different result. I wonder if that has anything to do with hope.

Last night Max was watching the History channel, and it was about the Rohn. Many of the men on there were killed, and their families were told they were missing in action. The government didn't tell the truth, presumably because it would hurt the public's opinion. Like a child who doesn't want to tell his/her parents the truth because they don't want their parents to be angry.
Anyways, i was touched to tears with the stories from these families. Hope that their husband/father was still alive and would come home one day. Living their lives with hope that their beloved was a POW and would be released. Even after the war, having dreams and hoping that their loved ones would return because the truth was held from them. Something reverberated in me with that, and i felt their loss deeply. Not only their loss of a family member, but their loss of time and life. Hope, which surely has been seen as a virtue, displayed it's darker side to me, and i saw myself in that.

I feel like i'm standing still now. Or at least maybe just moving in slow circles. Contemplating which way to step again. I do not want to be a casualty of war and life, hoping beyond reason and truth. Eventually, truth wins...even if it's not what we think it is.