Full View

In the night fog the Washington Monuments lights reflect with the sharp tip blurring into the low hanging clouds heavy with moisture. It peeks out over the Federal Reserve building blocking the full view I would have, but it still stands as a direct reminder that I am far, far from home. For the first time in a long time, a shiver of trepidation sweeps through, followed by the feeling of being swallowed in the power capital of the world. 

I started volunteering a few weeks ago. It's interesting working with the group. I still haven't really found my niche, or a way to relate, and it seems to be getting harder. And while my dreams keep getting dimmer, skimming the water as the float down a river towards another day lost, the old wounds I thought I had left 3,000 miles away knocked on my front door and waltzed in unannounced and undesired. 

The baggage fees are getting larger and my plane to the future keeps getting delayed, so instead I sit in the terminal watching rushing teenagers enter their first class seats on a plane ride to destinations of choice. I moving in slow motion as the world turns at an alarming rate seeming to change the horizons at a irrational pace, all the while, I feel chained to a process I just don't want to start.

I keep wondering if there is a Get-Out-Of-Jail-Free card for those that have paid penance for more than their fair share. When is it enough keeps bouncing off the cortex of my brain. I thought I paid the entrance fee to the party already.

I hate that more than just me pays for the sins of others. Like whirling dervish the ones I love get sucked in. Guilt mixes nicely with excruciating pain. It's like walking in a room full of fun house mirrors, more than just I are distorted. 

I know these times are purposed and I know they have a point, but it's as though there is a tug of war between my future and my past, and I am the rope. I am pretty sure I am the only one who is going to get screwed here. In fact I know I am the only one that has gotten screwed here. 

The sky keeps getting lower, like a picture of walls closing in. I just wish they were padded. The rose petals have begun to fall, and new green is growing but the weather is holding on to winter refusing to let go of the last cold breezes and stormy days. The seasons seem to be echoing my schizophrenia. 

Mixed messages are coming from the Source and for some reason I feel like I can't read the fine print. An incredibly large sum of unexpected money here, an emotional breakdown there; hey, just another day right?

For someone so in control, I feel as subject to life as I do to the weather. 

Well, the night just keeps getting darker, but if I stay up any longer the sleeping pill I just took to control my insomnia will wear off and the sun will come up again reminding me I have one less day to pretend I don't have to make decisions.

I still can't see the top of the monument, and actually the lights are starting to be hidden by the clouds as well as the peak. Well at least I know it's there. Just as I know He is there... Just beyond my full view.