Providence

So this is the image I will have forever in my mind when I think of Providence... I feel like it represents my journey there to visit Elizabeth. See those cracks on the sidewalk? That is the last few months of my life. Cracked. Broken. Spilling open.

And the walls on either side? Yep, got a few hundred of those built up around me, too. They're coming down. Brick by brick, stone by stone. I've begun to tear them apart and made a space to let the light in.

The light. See it there, in the background, surrounding that tree? That light.

It's the hardest work I've ever done. The most intense. Gut wrenching. Soul searching. Dark side of the moon. Blood letting. Shape shifting. Life changing. Facing down my demons. Scary scary stuff. . . .

And then Providence.

I knew I was going to end up there. We had been tossing around dates. I was supposed to head up a few weeks ago and the timing wasn't right. I thought I'd go next weekend. It wasn't clear. I didn't really have a set plan. I read Michelle's post last week during my daily blog meanderings. And a day or two later I had a complete breakdown. The kind where you end up a puddle in a strip mall parking lot talking to a couple of geese who are trapped in the little patch of grass in front of Barnes & Noble. And I knew immediately where I needed to be.

I needed to be with a woman like me. Like the one Michelle described so well. A woman who had discovered her own inner wisdom, her intuition. giving way to a clear understanding that she really does have all the support she needs – family, friends, spiritual beliefs. That she can trust.

And so I headed north to Providence and found her there; the woman who had already walked through the flames and knew just what I needed. She knew how to provide a sanctuary. A respite. Without being asked. A place where I could read and sleep and dream and talk and talk and talk and talk and walk and talk some more. Where we could eat if we wanted to--and whatever we wanted to! Nap if we wanted to. Snuggle beautiful dogs. Feel the breeze. Write. Stretch our legs. Sit in silence. Maybe take a shower. Or talk some more. Intuitive and comforting and safe.

The perfect balance of fire and water. Providence. "A safe haven for those seeking the light."