E X H A U S T I O N

Stumbling and fumbling over thoughts my fingers kept typing. I was attempting to hypnotize myself, to write in a trancelike state to find answers because my gut and my reality were standing at the alter staring at one another waiting, hoping for someone or something to object but hoping in vain.

At the alter there were no objections and so it was, my gut and reality tied the knot and moved forward into a series of life events while ignoring my stomach in its have and have nots.

It was no surprise at all when they announced that I’d been replaced. In fact, I did not read it all the way through because my gut expected it. It was reality that needed to take a seat to absorb the news.

Sometimes reality blames it on lack of sleep, vitamin deficiencies or overall diet, exercise or lack thereof. Other times reality blames its marriage to a gut no one objected to.

Overall, Exhaustion is or was how I’ve summarized my excuses.

They are excuses after all, for anything that has a resolution need not be a hindrance, lest the hindrance become obfuscated by the effort to overcome it and sometimes we may not want to overcome but rather in desire wish to leave understood.

I’d had enough and decided my gut and reality would divorce until the tying felt like a ship that reaches harbor finding its home in a place specially prepared.

My gut then returned a call when before it had knot. A man I’d not talked to in three years remembered me but in a way I’d forgotten to remember myself. He’d never met me in person but still he’d ‘seen’ me and I realized in that moment the blessing bestowed.

It seemed intuition was more than questionable ceremony. It was the third eye looking inward not just to judge what is found but also something looking outward to find who knows the value of what hides within.

Maybe the intuitive nudge is simply our souls acknowledgement of the honor in which it should be held because our gut would never willfully hitch itself to an incongruent and uncomfortable reality unless the effort to follow our gut becomes obfuscated by the desire to be acceptable when in fact we are more than this, much much more than this.

We are perfectly extraordinary love