I may have taken this hiatus thing a bit far. Let's just say I've been processing, and I continue to do so. Right now there are no guarantees for regular updates as I am wading through a lot of emotional and interpersonal stuff.
Grief takes its own time. The odd thing about it is how time has been playing with me. After my grandmother passed I started thinking back on my childhood. It's not as if I ever forgot it, but most of it I hadn't thought of in years, almost like it was someone else's childhood. I had over the years scooped it up and put it in a room and quietly closed the door. I don't want to give the impression that I had a horrible childhood. I think it was rather standard. There was some bullying and a good bit of loneliness, but nothing traumatic.
What has been coming back particularly was my early childhood in Florida. I haven't lived there in over thirty years. I remember the holidays, singing in the choir (yes I really did that), going to catholic school, long summer days in the pool, and the feeling of coming rain. I also remember spending a week or two at my grandmother's house in Tennessee and catching fireflies in the evening (although we called them lightning bugs). I remember going to visit my great aunts and uncles and also the happiness of coming home again and diving into our pool. I can still picture the dust motes in our den in the late afternoon sun.
I left Florida when I was nine, and for the most part I didn't miss it too much as I didn't really have any friends there. I often wonder what life would have been like if we'd never moved. I'm glad I started there, but I don't think it would have served me to grow up there. I am certain I would not have become Thomas Mooneagle. I wouldn't have met the people that shaped me on my magical path. Not the person who first gave me the idea that it was possible, nor the ones that shared their knowledge and skill with me, and not the crucial ones who showed me kindness and believed in my goodness when I most needed it.
Why am I telling you this? Well there are gems hidden in the locked rooms of our memories. We can easily forget the deep feelings that once filled our bodies to bursting, both pleasant and otherwise. It is wise to open the door every so often and see how we've changed, what we've lost, and what we've gained. The perspective of time can even help us find peace with some of the more painful memories. The skills I've developed and use in my practice did not come about because I was a happy person. That is often true for many of us.
How about you? Have you locked the door to memory? Do you start your identity halfway through your life story and ignore the first few chapters? If Hollywood has taught us anything in the past decade it is that origin stories are powerful. What if your memories could be the fuel to reignite your inner fire? What if the door to the past was left ajar? Take a stroll down memory lane and see what you find.
Peace and Blessings,
Thomas Mooneagle
