finding my voice

It's been a totally lost week, immersed in the trauma of re-writing a workbook with my husband. We couldn't be much more polarized about the topic if we tried; and we're supposed to teach this material holding a vibrant creation space for our advanced students. Sure.

But by last night we could talk about it without bloodshed and this afternoon I escaped to the beauty of the back yard and the wildlife of the canal. And I sat and wrote. And I wrote from such a different place in me, such a different voice, just a few brief pages on the mysteries of vision.

And now I'm in such a different space, somehow detached from it all, somehow initiated. Like I didn't know where to start, so it started for me.

Now to keep things going.