I met up with Sharon a few days ago. I haven't seen her in a couple of years. I had forgotten how self-centred she was, and how she uses her faith as a shield to distance herself from others. There's a part of me that wondered at my mild dislike of her, yet I wasn't concerned. She probably reminds me of a relative who used to use her own beliefs to shore up her sense of ... something.
I will likely never figure it out, it's just one more loose end that'll never get tied off.
I wonder if we are all bold fabrics. We wear our egos like shawls. Yet they are constantly unravelling here and there. We scramble to fix the holes and gaps, but no matter how hard we try, there is always another thread straying.
Maybe that's a good thing. The effort of tidying things up is satisfying to ego, but doesn't make for real trust in life and in the spark of divinity in us all. We are not fixed constructs, we are supposed to be unravelling. Our true self is vulnerable.
If I see the loose thread, maybe I can celebrate it, knowing there are a thousand thousand more where it came from that I can not see. And when my life eventually unravels completely, maybe I can celebrate that too.
First published February 2016 in my free monthly email newsletter, Starry Night. Sign up here.
