Things fall over and I break another glass –
Decisions have to be made.
In the morning sun, I stand and stare out the window, listening to the church bells and the clanging of options in my head, whilst my tea boils over and the smell of fennel wafts through this ugly apartment.
Maybe it’ll drown out the smell of the old woman’s cigarette smoke downstairs.
Why did I move to a country where everyone smokes? It’s an insult to the senses.
I snarl and close the window.
If a decision is made – any decision – will there be relief or will there be more of the same insanity? More indecision to follow? Have I fallen so far from trusting myself, my path, of whats to come, or is this just a momentary misperception – a divine intervention of sorts? – A veil I cannot, right now, see beyond?
Still, a decision needs to be made.
The card readings, the writing, the pushing of it all aside to meditate and go on long walks, for whole days even, have not helped.
Procrastination remains the highlight of the day.
October will be less complicated they say. More clarity. More letting go.
This month a decision needs to be made.
Another night – the window blind comes down to block out the street lamp. I need complete darkness but hazy restless dreams interject any hope of calm.
I wake with a start.
Maybe today a decision will be made.
The salt water baths, the singing, the washing away of the day before, ashes of the burned paper buried under the pine tree, consecrated with rose water and prayers beneath the moon…they have not helped.
A decision must be made.
My hands are older, the lines around my mouth pulling downwards – I have aged 10 years in one month – the anxiety in my heart and my belly showing in my eyes and on my skin.
The puzzle pieces of research have been put together and taken apart and put together again.
Paper is scattered on the floor with notes and poems, a glass of red wine I realize I cannot drink.
Messages from soulmates ease the resistance.
But everyone is on their own island and the decision is mine to make.