In my comments, people write that my entries are "raw" and "authentic."
In reality, I am filtering and censoring every thought.
My interior truth is not for a public forum.
Prayers are still appreciated. I have seldom been one to find much in the way of comfort in my experience of faith, but I suppose anything is possible.
Stratoz found that his imagination took him a long way here. Quite different, but the same.
The days are so long.
Saturday, September 13, 2008
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11 comments:
i find your entries generous. i'm sure your reality is far more complex than your writing. i'm still praying.
Robin, I have found that when I am grieving, my thoughts fail to process; everything in me just shuts down. To me you display amazing clarity. I wonder if you are writing your other thoughts down. The ones you cannot make public. Love from over here, on the other side of the midwest.
You are so often in my thoughts...
...just to let you know I'm continuing to pray for you, the psalms especially.
though I do not "know" you, I think about you and pray for you often.
Stratoz did an amazing job imagining. Mostly, I'm more successful at keeping you in my thoughts and prayers. I don't have a contemplation chair but I have a centering candle.
Thinking of you often.
Praying and praying. Love.
No surprise that the reality is not something you can express here...we appreciate the degree to which you are able to share, and will keep on praying and trying to imagine.
" Quite different"--- I shared this with Mosaic Woman who said, "what Iggy didn't give you omniscient powers of imagination?"
I said, "I should have stuck with the gin and tonic I imagined in that Jesuit's hand."
she also said, "it isn't a matter of not being able to imagine as much as being afraid to imagine."
so I must conclude that I married a smart ass who is wise.
Peace and hope for it.
I imagine that the nights are even longer. I imagine that the shower is a refuge, falling water being a soother. I imagine that the grocery store sounds like a torture chamber, all those people going about buying canned tomatoes under fluorescent lights.
Thank you for this bit of insight ("...I am filtering every thought.") I remember having that same sense of filtering everything I said after my father died. Though I wonder if what you are filtering (as I did) is the expression of emotion as much as any thoughts associated with it?
My thoughts and prayers remain with you.
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