The sky flashes, light unzipping across the dawning summer morning. It is surprising in these parts, a morning storm without rain, and the unseen bolt is a beginning that spreads fingers across earthly skies.
She sits across from this new face at the table, and she is afraid. This is a risk to trust again, to present herself as worthy of being known, to let unroll that piece of her story that told her she was tarnished, inadequate.
She hugs the child close, whispers love and I see you, says what she needed to hear herself as a little knock-kneed girl, and it is unknown and frightening. This speaking what is into what was not.
She puts down the phone and the book and the to-do list, and she sits with the quiet. She feels devastatingly alone and wonders if she will be swallowed right up into the darkness.
She picks up the pencils and sketch book, watches her hand’s imperfect lines across the perfect white page, and she is terrified. She hears the voice that told her art was a waste of time, indulgent and only for the talented, but she is determined to uncover some mysterious thing.
She begins to forgive, releasing clenched fingers to make room, and she feels naked. She does not know what will arrive in that empty place where jagged grief and anger have become her portion.
She moves across states to enter another recovery program because she must. Starts all over, gives up her freedoms, her phone calls, even her son who must live across the border with her brother because he’s too old to live with her. The woman who takes the open spot at the table next to the hurting and healing woman has nothing to offer, and so she gives her presence, her eyes meeting a fellow sister’s.
Just look at their courage, her bravery, her hope, her beginning somewhere. Agreeing with what is true as if it actually were, fingers of light reaching across vast expanses like massive yearning vines.
Joining with Lisa-Jo Baker and the Five Minute Friday crew this morning. It’s bittersweet to say goodbye to FMFs with Lisa-Jo (what a place of community, joy and freedom this has been for me over the years). We send her off with so much love as she pursues new beginnings of her own, and I’ll continue to write on whatever Fridays I’m able, linking up at our new host Kate‘s place where the community lives on. You’re always welcome!