This is a hard one.
I had to sit in the dark with journal to pen to even begin. There’s an unfortunate confluence of emotions that need processing. Mine. I require the sort of timeless reflection that can only beexpressed by hand. The inner work has manifested itself as a deliberate trip past the superficial talents of the every day. Here I sit, now barely scratching the surface. I’m depending on the quiet darkness to lead me inward & to the wisdom I need to process the tangled, yet simultaneously scattered emotions, you’ve left me with.
I’m joined by presence of an elderly man. I knew he’d come. This Solemn Old Chief has been withRead More