Two Visions

This morning, in a quiet time, I saw a vision of myself performing again.

This has been something I've been unable to picture. I've been willing to let it all go forever.

Performing, bringing up that life-force in order to entertain, brings too much physical pain.

And putting myself "out there," trying to make people laugh...or cry...it seemed too hard.

Even though I once traveled about and spoke to large audiences with great confidence, it became just another thing I don't do anymore.

I haven't felt sad about that really because I know my brain and my body need the rest and I have faith that if I'm to return to the stage, it will happen. And if not, so be it. I have learned well to go with the flow.

Yet, this morning, out of nowhere, I saw myself after my surgery, and able to perform in a more, low-key yet meaningful way. Perhaps a reinvention of my former stage self. A parallel to the reinvention of my life.

Later, I happily sat out on our little front deck just soaking in the view. Lips closed and gazing toward the mountains in the north and just accepting thought to take me where it wanted to. The lawn spread out in front of me, and then, I saw ME, riding Shadow across the lawn.

Usually, my dreams are of me astride the horse, looking between those sweet brown ears down the trail. But today, the fleeting vision was of me and what I'd be doing, and what I'd look like, if I could ride again, if I lived here with Shadow.

Does it mean that I will ride again someday just like the first vision perhaps means I will once again perform? I didn't get that sense of it. It was more like a juxtaposition, the old me...the future me...both good. Both acceptable. Both a blessing.

Going with the flow.