I am looking to find my balance and bearing. Like a gyroscope, I move about the house looking at things, head tilted, eyes open wide, a large smile. I sort of dance, sway and swing, slide and tiptoe, all at once.
I discovered myself, arms stretched wide, in the landing, almost cavorting, to the notes of "Let the Adventure begin". I allowed this witchy, mischievous me to come out and prance.
I cooked, I listened to music, I cleaned, I moved furniture, I washed, I ate.
Prayers this morning were following the sound of perfection, the beating of my heart. I don't know how many times I will repeat myself since I write here, in my journal, and I speak to friends - so, please, forgive me if you've heard it before - but even though I talk to God daily, I realised I never worshipped. Now that I have found a renewed faith, prayers have a different vibe.
I am also perfectly aware that all those words I am reading are not boring as I thought at the beginning of my journey, but these are the same words that the community at Whalley Abbey recites; that my mentor says; that every Christian following the Common Worship prays. And I don't feel alone, anymore. And once you start thinking about that vulnerable friend in need, the other one writing her dissertation, and that friend looking after your cats, your friends back in Italy, and your mentor, and your supervisor, and... and... I feel I never stop and I could pray for hours.
Moreover, there is this light blue, cerulean and velvety lounge chair in the living room, of the same colour as a bucolic sky, the colour of a pastoral / pastel Heaven; the same colour of two lounge chairs my grandmother Zaira had, in the reading room, in Gorizia. Grandfather Mario would sit on one and every evening grandma and I would dance, for him, to the Blue Danube hummed by them. And this chair is now here, right in front of me, and I respect the space she stands in; and the memories she helps me uncover.
This afternoon I went for a solitary and windy walk during which I had an intense argument with God, aloud, in the middle of a field - which is good because there was no one else around! - and I came back with a trophy in the shape of a dead branch I am planning to use for some work, and a piece of slate I found on the beach because I wanted to create a cross for my prayers.
Now, while I am writing this, I realised it's time for Compline: my phone buzzed because Whalley Abbey was online for prayer. I feel not lonely, the community is present, and this means the world to me. If I could only share, with you, the constant and systematic synchronicities I have been experiencing since early November ... if I only could! Instead, for now, I am leaving you with some of the images I took today while out exploring, or in the house and experiencing the space, or while making.
And now is time for me to get ready for bed.
I am leaving you with the second piece of paper and the knowledge that I have specifically asked something to God. Is this testing? Is this scrutinising? Is this a good thing or a bad thing?! I am not so sure: let's see.
piece of paper evening #2
onwards & upwards!