Dots Along the Journey - What Now?

8.1.21... As I begin to write, I'm doing so, not knowing if or when I'll publish this one. I opened up the site to document the last 24 hours of zinging and zagging, vessels and the flow. It's difficult being a conduit and letting new people in. It's even more difficult when you want to tell those new people everything, but there's really no need to, or, they're not even asking, so, um, what's the point? Yesterday morning, being a light, I posted some pictures on my advocacy account on Instagram around my health situation. One of my wuwu friends and lipedema sisters left a comment that stirred up memories of the song Shine on You Crazy Diamond by Pink Floyd, so I told her the same and then dug out an old post about my legs around that same friend. Yesterday was also my first time out at a rock show since the pandemic started, as well as a day of seeing someone from my past, whom has shared some wuwu experiences with me over the years, specifically an incident in Arizona on a business trip. Nothing about that visit was noteworthy per say, until my phone showed me a text from a departed friend's momma, looking to connect some dots about something her son wrote the same day I put up this blog post. Today, as I'm dialing down on her questions, looking at old conversations, emails, texts and exchanges from a decade ago, I'm connecing new dots. Learning new truths. Remembering old ones. The truth is something my friend was always seeking, and the dots have always been something I have struggled with accepting, often arguing with them or running from them as they've transpired this incarnation. I've long believed that we're drawn to that which we most need to learn. Rereading that blog this morning about paying attention, that we are where we should be, stirred up everything I've ever known about Knowing, my teen years as a conduit, the neighborhood where those gifts were first tested, every single download, nudge and dot that's ever come to pass, and what I've learned the last 30+ years accepting these things as facts versus fiction. Including my last conversation with my grief and trauma counselor before she gave me homework a couple weeks ago for the next month or so that's making me retrace all of this old stuff anyway to take an inventory of what exactly I've overcome, that I more often than not tuck up on a shelf so that my brain can give itself dogma about how I expected things to be right now, versus how they are. I. Am. Shook. Equal parts weepy at it all, equal parts in utter awe of it all. And, it's a gorgeous day to now leave this computer behind, go meditate in the sunshine on the deck, let the messages come freely without my running from them, and prepare a response to the Momma who is just trying to heal her own shattered heart and finish her son's greatest wish, his book.