a season of quiet
I'm in a big, quiet season. In life. I'm retired and don't work for money. I don't volunteer. For a year and a half since the onset of sciatica, I've been in recovery mode physically. I do housework, laundry, meals. I read, add pieces to the jigsaw puzzle, listen to spiritual teachers. There are wide expanses of time with nothing to fill them. Creativity of the past isn't flowing into the present – i.e., quilting. Eckhart Tolle says such times (of pain) are good for burning up the ego. It's been a time of reflection and introspection. Longing for direct contact with God. (This moniker – "God" – has been transformed for me. I left Christianity and the evangelical Church gradually starting in the early 1990s, with a clean break in about 1997. What I mean by "God" now is not what or who I meant before then, growing up in the evangelical world: A Big old Father in the Sky Out There to whom I pray for the things I need. "God" now see...