Quest?

Sometimes I am filled to bursting with feelings that are indistinct, but potent. Left to their own devices, they do not go away, or become any clearer. Instead they just become heavier and heavier, creeping out to fill up all the available spaces inside of me so that everything looks gray, sounds like it is coming through cotton and threatens to turn me into some sort of stone creature who only looks like she is human.

It is nothing new. I cannot remember a time without the threat of these gremlins hovering on the outskirts of my joy; ready, willing and able to leap into the circle at the most unexpected moment and douse the fire. It doesn't matter who their birth parent was, or how their seeds were planted, I am their designated caretaker and I have developed different ways of dealing with them.

The most obvious is to remember that they exist, which, instead of throwing light on a subject, often throws doubt on my reality. Knowing they exist makes me question my judgment and even my real feelings.

The next depends on how far they get before I realize they are back in the game. Sometimes I write. Sometimes I meditate, or pray, or listen to the Silence. Sometimes I play my Native American Flute and sometimes I play the piano. The secret seems to be to put something else in their space that forces them out, or perhaps just lifts them up and moves them over. Or, maybe it just lifts me up above them so I can breathe freely, see more clearly and hear the truth. It sounds so simple, so mundane or dreary, but sometimes I think it is my quest in this life and if I ever figure it all out, who knows what could happen?