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 <title>Blogging, perhaps?</title>
 <link>http://www.moveandbemoved.net/blog/kathyhennis/blogging-perhaps</link>
 <description>&lt;p&gt;I&#039;m navigating the abyss you told me would come. I&#039;m in boot camp with God and all I know so far is that I need to dance slowly and quickly and sometimes I see a spark of the God in me and I listen to her because she knows everything at once. What choice do you have? You can&#039;t breathe and you can&#039;t see and you can&#039;t hear and it&#039;s over you&#039;re pretty sure it&#039;s over. The darkness is so real, so tangible. Learn or die. So, you come to yourself. Quite simply, you come to yourself. There is nothing else.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;So. Long. Ago. Another person wrote that and I know her. She still speaks to me, questioning, crying, screaming. I listen.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;J. said watch nature for how to die gracefully. So much depth from pain, sorrow, trauma. Now, it&#039;s time for light.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;If life is what I decide then let me decide this:&lt;br /&gt;
To die gracefully.&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;To be wounded by my own understanding of love.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
To look at myself in the eyes.&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;To bleed willingly and joyfully.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
To find depth from joy.&lt;br /&gt;
To accept.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;I dreamt about you months ago. You were a giant spiderweb and I was stuck in the middle of it. You were surrounding me. I had a sword. After a year of pain I stood up and looked at you, looked right at you. And in utmost joy I started cutting you down, chopping as fast and as hard as I could. There was so much freedom there, in those spaces without you. I got scared. I fell to the ground crying, remembering, the joy and the pain, the letting go letting go letting go killing me killing me killing me. Then a voice said to me &quot;Do something different.&quot; I stood up. And instead of running away, instead of weeping, I stuck the sword down face up in the mud and I bowed to each side of you, each side of the cutting I had made, each moment of ecstasy and bereavement, and I sat down in the center and smiled.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;This is the story of my death and rebirth. No less. My entire life written between these pages. Childhood, a quick death, and an awakening.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Something ……. &quot;Be your own mother. Be your own mother.&quot;&lt;/p&gt;
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 <pubDate>Tue, 16 Dec 2008 00:36:45 +0000</pubDate>
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