The word angel comes from angelos which is the Greek word for messenger
I haven' t blogged in such a long time but just like that treasured longtime girlfriend that You always know will be there for you, no matter how much time has passed between lunch dates with her... my blog too, is here when I need it to be. There is something comforting about this outlet.
I feel I need some comforting this week, my heart seems extra heavy with the weight of so many significant concerns and on top of them so many odd things triggering the pain of many memories of sooo long ago. It's worrisome for me when I find myself STILL pained by memories that are so long past and usually SO long forgotten. I imagine I have these heartaches hidden away in the darkest corners of my being, being guarded behind a locked, darkened window by some type of keeper. Lately though, it's like this little keeper has been a mischievous girl, prying open the window, allowing random, silly triggers to blow in and stir up all those dusty stored piles of hurt feeling, neglect and unfulfilled needs and allowing them to flow out. They flutter up up up, around and around and land heavily on my heart and mind.
Yesterday, I found myself wondering if this keeper is a little rascal or is she perhaps more a messenger Angel of sorts, pushing me to do something about all this antiquated, unwanted clutter.
THREE times this week, a book that had triggered much trouble from this messenger when I had originally read it, was brought up in conversation to me. 'A tree grows in Brooklyn.' I can't even write, read or hear the title, without it evoking the same heavy heart that reading it gave me. When I had read that book, I found myself taking out my old worn out notebook of notes, that I occasionally gathered in my life, notes that I had put up on a shelf and forgot about. Feverishly writing memory after hurtful memory, deliriously intending to one day organize it into some kind of book about my crazy life story! But now, Three times in one week? Along with hearing many emotional songs that are acting as triggers like the poignant song 'farmers daughter' by Crystal Bowersox, which has a few lines that move me to tears. How can ALL these signs not be some kind of message?? Maybe my angel is messengering me to FIND the tattered notebook and take IT AND that 'crazy' dream of writing my novel off the shelf and like a good spring cleaning, open up the window and sweep up every messy corner of my soul.