I’ve been feeling a monumental shift for months. Not the sort of subtle change of approaching fall or the beginning of a new writing project. Bigger. I understood, when Sunday my dad passed from this life. It’s tough to lose a parent. Letting him go and finding myself among the remnants of a shared life, pushed me to re-evaluate everything.
As difficult as grieving is, that wasn’t the explosive force of the Mt. Vesuvius I’d been sensing. It was the catalyst. The eruption that shocked my core and spewed steaming liquid emotion and cleared the dead ash of the past opened my channels to growth.
I am free, open hearted and a bit raw, but in a good way. Cleansed. Unburdened. Able to be me with diamond-bright clarity, I’m trading in my old life for a shiny new version. One where people who ignore, betray, or selfishly cause pain are toast. Done with that.
I’d been walking a tightrope suspended between light and dark. I choose light.
My tolerance for the dark and destructive choices of others has burned away in Vulcan’s furnace. I can no longer involve myself with those who jump into the black abyss of smoldering ruin and call it a good thing. It’s not. Standing in the dark leaves one blind to a better way. At first, they refuse to see the truth, and finally, the stinging smoke takes their vision and they are unable to comprehend their condition. I can’t save them. I must save myself from the consuming flames.
My creative world has been altered, valleys jutted to heights and mountains made low. I write, a new form is being hammered out, iron strengthened to steel. Dross burned away leaving gold. What am I planning to write? Something different. Truer to myself and full of light. I’m off the tightrope and I’ve severed the cord. I stand on a green mountain peak beside a brook. The view is clear. The air is fresh and clean. A soft breeze whispers healing to my soul. A path colored golden by sun beckons to my future. I’ve placed my foot on the trail, and I’m excited for the journey.