Meri's Musings

This is so much harder than it seems. The lovely moments seem to be fleeting. The instant of trauma feels more likely to imprint. Collect and  celebrate extraordinary moments, moments of astonishment and celebration, moments of tender love moments that give you hope and inspiration.

Don't you just love those "verification" words, the key that opens the door for comment posts? The other day, I got a wonderful made-up word. INTIMID. I think that's what you are when you're wounded or inexperienced or worried about how you look, but you're easing your way toward intimacy with someone new ever so slowly.  .  . with eyes averted when the whole process gets a little too intense or the fear rises up like a bulimic episode. Gently sliding toward connection. So full of hope, but a bundle of nerves. Wanting to get close, but holding yourself back just a little. Intimid.

As I walked outside in the early morning light, the moon was hanging in the western sky, full and shiny. Ah, I thought. Maybe that's it. I've been feeling particularly open the past few days; feeling tender and raw as if I'm taking on some secret sadness from unknown sources. Sensing that I'm wide open psychic-ly and not particularly well shielded. Feeling mutable and changeable as if the slightest breeze will alter the way things look to me forever. "Mutable" copyright 2009 Meri Arnett-Kremian. If, as I've been told, this wander I'm going on starting in mid-week will alter me in profound ways I can't anticipate, the cycles of the moon, the wind ruffling the water's surface, the feeling of tenderness for the suffering in the world and a sense of being on the cusp of something too big to grasp with my mind are probably all part of the travel package. A little preview, so to speak. Soul Journey. All aboard. . . . .