To begin anew was what she wanted. She began with one gesture outward, but the real movement had taken place an instant before in her heart. She had been listening to her heart. It was always saying something. It was speaking in her. That was how she knew she was alive and cared for.
She knew all kinds of things as she let herself receive the murmurs that kept flowing from somewhere within her. They were small murmurs, gently felt, not very noticeable. What she noticed most was her desire to hear them. She knew there was something to hear, something to be listening to. She had gotten into the habit of listening outwardly and this had created confusion in her. So now, today, this minute, as she sat down to write she said, I will listen. I will let it come to me this awareness of the thing I am. I need to know who I am for I am not the world.
It was surprising to her to find that there were words at the ready. She felt a slight pain in her wrist and hand as she began, but she knew that many things existed to distract her from the words that come from the Wordlessness that was waiting to tell her all she longed to know. To hear herself was all that mattered at any time, today was as good a time as any other except that it was in fact the best time, being the only one imbued with power.
The now of reality was this tiny moment squeezed in between the noises from a dream that took itself very seriously. Oh yes, she had succumbed to the noise. Falling flat on her face out there was the greatest gift to be given. She knew she had simply stumbled out of her peace. But peace was here. She could feel it. It knew all about her as only It could. How well It knew her. How well It upheld her. How well It conceived of a life for her. Her desire to let out all that It knew of her was the pressure she was constantly feeling. Such great pressure that felt like illness, but it was not. It was health wanting freedom from being cooped up in ignorance and fear.