…today, even if nobody reads this post, is day zero. Day zero comes before day one, is the reflexion before the new undertaking, this mysterious peeking into the avant-garde of what’s coming.
I’ve been delaying this moment for years, have I really?, or I was waiting for the moment that blogging would pop out of me naturally like the reaching for water when thirsty.
endings are beginnings, entrances are exits,
departures are arrivals, parting to stay , remaining to disappear
Janus , the two faced God of thresholds.
It feels like I am already mourning my invisible life and welcoming this vehicle that will take me to your mailbox weekly , and I will see your comments at the foot of my page and all this propagation, generation, ripples, quivers of arrows sent in breeding directions.
I had written a diary since I can remember.I had my little girl diary with a key, and I fabricated my own note pads binding lose pages to create the container for my heart’s poring, I almost started writing a diary right after learning to write. The gift of naming came with the act of writing,
So far, It has been so private, concealed, inward, personal, that it will take me a while to make the transition. Bear with me.
Was i lazy? unwilling to do the work to include any audience into my inner castle? selfish? keeping to my self my sancta sanctorum?
was I afraid? you bet. The diary by definition is safe, unexposed, private like one’s private parts.
And here I am, finally the need to commune , to give away, to partake this offering that feels like splitting myself open to strangers, has been stronger than the fear of been judged and criticized.
Lots of growing up, from the secrecy to the joyous, careless, naked, innocent, bold exposure . I give credit to myself for that.
The truth is that it has taken a lot of growing up to get to this public modern pulpit . In fact whenI I think of the old church pulpit in the little village I grow up, i can see why it has taken me 40 years to step up into this kind of visibility, to voice my opinions, to say out loud my reflections.
Early imprints, the resounding authoritarian voice , crucifixion, capital punishment, electrocution, decapitation, hanging, beheading, burning at the stake were the punishment traditionally to any one that would dare to disagree, and sooner or later you are bound to disagree if you open your mouth, no wonder it is so difficult to speak freely
I know I am overdramatizing the whole thing, but for my mythic mindset, it feels like I am defying millions of years of the law to be silent or caught , invisible or dead.
so those are my fantasies and worst fears that come to me when I commit to show up weekly and share with you my thoughts , feelings and reflections.
it always shocks me the characters in the movies going to be killed they walk with dignity and poise, my fear is always to go kicking and screaming , to lose face, to make a fool of myself, i hope to also approach the act of dying with the same dignity and freedom,voluntarily, so nothing is taken from me. It does feel good to start reaching out to you and create a field of resonant voices . Hopefully we will generate a place where we can engage in a meaningful conversation and soulful sharing of dreams and possibilities.