This year I’ve decided to sort of document my journey, my quest, whatever you want to call it as I spend a bit more time spelunking in the heart cave of my soul. I’m in the process of working through a journal workbook called The Castle of the Pearl by Christopher Biffle. I’ve made this pilgrimage before — 25 years ago, but I see things in the Castle much differently than then.
Thing of it is, I can’t work in it when there’s someone in the house. For some reason that I didn’t understand till this morning, another presence (other than Twitch’s) feels like a violation to me. When I do these exercises I need privacy and room to breathe. I need the quiet (which I found very interesting, I never put music on). I need to hear only the on-going life outside that doesn’t intrude into my sanctuary here.
It dawned on me as I sat here writing this morning I think I was describing a womb! A place where what I’m pondering on can be mulled over and shaped into whatever it ends up becoming.
It fits! I NEED this incubation period. That explains a lot about my unrest the last few years as I’ve tried to spelunk while my son is here so much of the time. He works a rotating shift at work. And while I pray without ceasing (literally) for him to find a full-time day job, I know I will have to continue to deal with this.
But the concept of writing in a womb and having an incubation period is fascinating to me. Fortunately it seems to apply only to when I’m working in journal mode so most of the time I’m good to go. Yet how interesting that as I grow and mature and learn, I need times of incubation to process how life works and what it means for me.
I really have NO reason for writing this post except that the metaphor of the womb tickled my fancy. So if you get through this and think, well what the heck was THAT all about, sorry! 😀 It just needed to be a recorded part of my journey.
Do any of you guys who journal ever feel that way when you’re writing, or am I just plain weird??? 😮