Sleepies, the Place In Between

Saturday—Heart has been heavy for a few days. Haven’t wanted to write. It’s just that the weight has been bringing me down. Depths that I rather not be. Feeling disconnected in many ways. I know the source for this emptiness, but am a bit helpless. It’s in another’s hands. Tried this and that, but alas rien. 

Don’t like to be in this place. But I have Hope. I have Faith things will turn around. Only can Pray and let another guide me where I need to be. Brother and his family left for the Magical Kingdom for the weekend. It’s niece Lynn’s Birthday. She’s ten. Couldn’t tell you how much I needed to be where family was last night. Practically ran out the door from Reiki class.

Trying to live more present. Trying to enjoy where I am. Yet, can’t help from being there and apart at the same time. In Vein of Gold meeting, felt disconnected there, too. Perhaps, it was because I missed the week prior. Perhaps, its because I don’t share much commonality with the matriarchs. Perhaps, it was the spread of the morose from the previous “Soul Loss.”

Read that Soul Loss in shaman-speak is an illness of dire order. Yeah, I feel an emptiness. Yeah, I feel less than. Yeah, I lack some feel in my feel. At times, it fills when I go to St. Mary’s. Yeah, it fills when I’m present in wherever I am. Yet, I felt like Luke in Dagobah planet with Master Yoda (Sorry, my nephew has gotten me the Spielberg Mode). It feels there is an anger and cloudiness, a morose. It is during Luke’s Jedi training, he get frustrated and distraught being it of the Force. When its Flows, it flows. Yet, after coming from a high, there is a bit of crashing. Not a welcome grounding, like when a cesna comes down from getting beat up by the high, high winds. It is more a thunderous thud.

Sitting here in Vista Point. I watch the sunrise. Overlooking Lake Palmdale, the cars behind me speed by. A White Dodge Caravan is parked next. The driver is bundled up in a nice, warm fuzzy blanket catching some ZZZZZ’s. It reminds me of Master Yoda sitting in his car seat. Partly awake, partly asleep. Being transported from the warm comfortable crib to be awaken in the early, early morning to the car seat to Ford Tundra.

Everyone is awake in the early morning darkness. Things are a buzz as the rest readies themselves for the journey ahead to meet Donald and Minnie. Going to California adventure. Master Yoda is still not awake due to late night of jumping on pillow bridges, escaping the dangers of toy monsters at his feet. The Dodge Caravan guy next has himself wrapped up warming up and waking up to new day to come. Not quite ready for the beautiful day to come. He’s has his head covered to the morning sun. I know this place. I like this place. This place enjoys of the heat circulating warmth under the blanket that is getting heated by the showering sun.

I know my emptiness, its all around. My heavy heart beats my weighted blood which circulates my morose. True, I understand this will not last. There is a brighter day to come. I can see it now. Yet, not quite ready to take on the day, this is morose and angst is just a lesson. It is the sleepies crusting my eyes closed. It’s the before I wake up from the warm wrapped blanket. The cars behind me speeding my telling me we are here. I feel the warmth of the morning sun underneath the oh-so cozy blanket telling me it’s time to wake up.

I know this moment before I wake up and get up and go. This is when I can still enjoy my sleep under the so warm blanket and wake up before the beauty of the day.  It’s the place before happy REM departs and the morning day begins. I am not fond of this in-between. Leaving a happy dream and waking up to a beautiful day. This is where my morose lives. This where the emptiness sucks. This is the time being nudged awake from good evening dream.

My eyes will open. I will say goodbye to my beautiful dream to meet the wonderful new day. I will wipe the morning crusties—my morning sleepies—from my eyes. I just not enjoy the moments that in the between. Ah, time to open my eye. Just let me finish my dream. I want to see how it ends.

Friar-dom?

Lynn said in a former life I was a monk. Or my Reiki guide is a monk. Without any prompting and before we broke, she said an image of a monk kept on coming to her. Earth mother said she thinking my special word for me was "Faith" before I said it to our reading group. During my drunken college days, I dressed up as a monk and woke up a with a 9 inch wooden cross (and aching jaw where someone I still don't know who hit me during a drunken Halloween stupor) I have still have priest outfit that I wore for last Halloween. 

 She said “45” kept her in head. Lynn was my Reiki Instructor. I think I understand the 45, but I will keep that one to myself. 

Won’t deny that I feel comfortable and at peace in church. I'll will admit that I felt a calling to the clergy. I'll admit there is book sitting next to me named “Everything Understanding Islam.” I'll admit that I made a promise one year to “Make My Soul Stronger.” Took a Philosophy as Religion and Bible at Literature class. I'll admit that there was a need to be Baptised again. I'll admit that Abbey in Valyermo felt like home. I'll admit that when Welford and Shazam balked about me being a priest that my natural instinct was to say, “No, you are wrong. Priestly vocation has been a part of me. This life or past life—it is part of who I am.”

Recently learned my Uncle Mike was accepted to a most prestigious seminary school in the Philippines. Learned one of my Fonacier relatives is a priest too. Maybe its in the blood. Whatever it is, I'll admit that I believe that I am a Man of Faith. What that Faith is, I’m still discovering.

My blog posts are of redemption and higher calling. It is about the heroic journey. Things are coming to clarity now. Still do not know where this journey leads, but here I be. Still not sure if this my life or my guide to do be and do, all I know is that I'm beginning to know. Still coming to grips with these messages.

This will be a short post. Sorry.

Have Faith.