why is the wagon always red?

have you ever had it all come clear - and then woken up unexpectedly drowning in the black waters all over again..

it's not easy, this going backwards

Last night, I was gloriously surprised by free live music at my favourite place here so far, Zocalo's Cafe.. I arrived around 4:30pm and easily stayed till almost closing time.. I browsed a children's book and let the music carry me away until the place was transformed into all that is beautiful from that world of long ago where I have never lived, and only know of from books and movies.

I realized I'm happiest all alone. That's when I am free to live in the realm of the unreal, able to hear and see and feel SO much all around me. Able to laugh.

This is why it's not always so easy to find a kindred spirit.. as I think, at my very core, I'm more like a wide eyed baby.. which is one little bit of why I am not yet a Mom... I promise to write all about that sometime soon..

So everything was wonderful. I found myself once again, following a day designed by God.. much in the way someone might carefully plan an elaborate proposal.. turn here, go here, look someone to talk to, a small white butterfly glimpsed just before it disappears from view amoung white flowers on a tree, the sunlight, did you see that shadow? the sunlight.. look up..

A few times, while I've walked my street - I have smelled something so sweet, I know it must be the flowers, but I cannot find them anywhere..

This wonderful mystery of life.

but, this morning, I awake, sad.
unable to even imagine beginning the search for my place here.
overwhelmed with the thought of leaving this room

I know that just beyond.. almost the moment I step outside.. is all I need for healing..
yet.. I am just exhausted from this ride of hope and dispair..

i'm tired.
and feel that i have nothing to offer but brokeness

i am very much a shiny red wagon whose wheels are rusted from tears
who is afraid of what it might be like to be loved again, to be taken out and
to rolled along the sidewalk.. bump..bump..bump..

it seems that not much depends upon a little red wagon.. but rather
so much depends upon the child who loves it.

p.s.  now i want a wagon.