I've had a swirl of emotions since I posted Sea Hags and Granny Panties. I've questioned the logic of it all. Wondered if I've alienated those who I aspire to sit with. I've spent nights wide awake in my bed with only the sliver light of the moon shining across the bed. My inner dialogue going something like this.
"Maybe what this is a mid-life crisis. Maybe this restlessness is just because 40 looms."
"What if the spaces you manifested writing for won't invite you in because you don't want the labels anymore."
"No one is reading anyway. Why are you giving so much weight to this when it's not even been well read. Or received."
But I realize that what I wrote is still all true for me and the private messages and the emails tell me that I'm not in it alone.
That comforted me. I'm claiming it. I'm spending Dia De Mertos with The High Priestess and a mocha. Standing in this thin veil space and spreading my arms open wide. Inviting it all to come in. But only what brings life to stay.