Sometimes I feel as if I have been broken into one. Before, there were two of us in an ordinary marriage. Not great but not terrible either. Just two people muddling through life carrying their baggage as they go along.
But now one of us is gone and I have been broken into one. Not the One, just one. They are not the same. People like to claim enlightenment but usually it is rather premature. I am not sure God has given them His all-access backstage pass quite yet. No, I am just one lonely little petunia in an onion patch, as the old song goes.
Trundling along a solitary path, trying to avoid the potholes as best I can. Writing keeps me in between the lines. It keeps me relatively sane. What it cannot do is join me back into duality with a spouse. Death is final.
So here I am, learning how to be with myself, how to befriend myself. Resting is a great hobby at any age. Resting the mind, resting the spirit. You can exercise the body, but the mind is better off at rest.
I had a picnic for supper tonight. I got my neighbor’s mail while she and her family were at the lake. She shared some homemade pimento cheese and chocolate cake with me. Since it is hot, I only used the oven to make some kale chips. They were so so, but the cake was da bomb.
Broken into one, on the way to being healed into One. I never was good at math.