"I feel so intensely the delights of shutting oneself up in a little world
of one's own, with pictures and music and everything beautiful."
Virginia Woolf, The Voyage Out
The more I integrate into all parts of myself, the more connected I feel to the unseen. Odd, to grow stronger only to withdraw more into my own little world. What could be better than surrounding oneself with silence, nourishment, books, pen, and paper.
In silence, I listen for the words not spoken and imagine how my life might be, if they were to escape to the surface. If they were released, would they paint my world with happiness and illuminate my desires or would they be like small dead birds hitting an unseen wall.
My spirit is comforted by the words of ancient writers, as the wisdom is not bound by passing time nor daunting future. If I wear the heavy shadow of my past, or a sketchy veil of my future, I remain who I am. Just being me in the moment, they say it is enough; but, I wonder.
So, I remain in my intricate world where things are ornately beautiful and silence is filled by the sounds of nature. Peace and calm surround me and compassion fills my heart. My words drip from my fingertips filling empty pages, and at times a glimpse of wisdom hangs in the air eventually absorbed by the rays of the sun.
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