leaving in a hybrid...

sung to the tune of "leaving on a jet plane." Off to Bismarck to see Mum and Dad for a few days, almost fully recuperated from pulling a rib out (again) - phew, that hurts a lot. I don't even know it's happened until I can't breathe. I'm sitting here thinking about my Work, and about the 180 my life has done in the past 6 months. I've gone from teaching Reiki, holding gatherings and healings, teaching at Moorhead Comm. Ed, teaching at my offices, speaking and leading workshops all over the place, to finishing up with my clients who've scheduled, to writing almost full-time and helping Steve on his campaign. It's exactly what I want to be doing, but it's so odd that after 20 years of being on the frontlines, taking the hits and the facing into the wind, standing firm and staying for the alternative community, being a voice for what the eye cannot see, to feeling almost, shudder, normal. What does that even mean? I'm not sure at this point, but it's as if something has lifted from my shoulders, some burden, maybe, that it's up to ME to "help" Fargo and the area get exposed to spiritual options. It's good work, I love my Work, and I know I'll always do it, but something has shifted, and it feels good, like I'm letting out a huge sigh. Besides, there are a lot of others who are using their voices to do spiritual work, and although I'm not familiar with all of it, and don't resonate with some of it, it's all good in this big wide wonderful world, right?

So I leave for a few days, to cook, and clean, and organize, and lay hands on Mum and Dad, and laugh with them, and help however I can, because I love them, and that's what you do when you love someone - you sit with them, and you stay. And so I'm Steve's right hand woman in his campaign - helping him, supporting him, encouraging him, believing in him. And what's next for me? I don't know - it's all wide open, like a big field, and I sit in it with my eyes closed and a smile on my face, and wonder what will happen next - it's magic, it is. And I believe in it, and I believe in my life.