Um…

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So yeah, I’ve been down the rabbit hole for a little while and it was just part of my process. There’s a difference between pondering one’s part of the Universe and staring dead on at the biggest fear that was unable to be predicted, therefore, it was predictable. That is the moment, the crisis, the vortex, the spewy, ugly, purtrid, beautiful, ecstatic, I Am, Infinity, collide. 

I stood there, listening to Coldplay’s In My Place and sobbed. But I can’t quite get the rest out. I’m stuck on the notion that my whole adult life has been an illusion. What of my kids? What of my husband? On and on. Nothing. Everything. Because my perception is unique, as everyone’s individual perspective is, I cannot imagine what my existence has meant beyond what I think I remember – or worse yet, what I think I know, yet I do not. 

So then Bittersweet Symphony came on and I knew I had to write this down – now. 

All is not lost my loves, I have somehow remembered to take the Observer of the Observer point of view and here I am. We know the details don’t matter, just the lessons. Boom baby. 

We shall call it “The Crisis that Wasn’t“. 

For the diet record, I care never to see another hard boiled egg. 

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