I go back and read my earlier post.
I notice — to my pleasant surprise — I inadvertently typed and referred to Susan Lewis’ book as ‘No Turning Point,’ instead of, ‘No Turning Back.’
For one who is a firm believer in synchronicities and serendipities, that there are no ‘accidents’ or ‘mistakes,’ I sure didn’t type ‘No Turning Point’ rather than ‘No Turning Back’ by ‘mistake.’ Neither did I make that ‘mistake’ for no reason.
I pause from my writing. I reflect. I inquire. I wonder why….
I go back to my earlier post to edit and change ‘No Turning Point,’ to ‘No Turning Back.’
Wait a minute.
I did write ‘No Turning Back.’
I check the rest of the post. There isn’t anything to correct. There’s nothing written as ‘No Turning Point.’ I have correctly typed all references to the book as ‘No Turning Back.’
Where is it in the text that I saw ‘No Turning Point’ the first time?
I review it again.
Is Trickster calling my attention? Might there be a message there that’s coming through?
No Turning Point. No Turning Back.
Even when I go back, there isn’t anything to change or to correct. What was done and finished is to be left as it is. There were and are no mistakes. ‘Perfect’ as how it needed and needs to be. Nothing to remedy. Nothing to fix.
I play around with the words.
There is no turning point when I turn back. There is no point in turning back. There is no turning point in turning back.
The healing power of writing
Writing is a very powerful healing tool.
Often, in my journaling and writing practice, I am amazed at the words that flow through my hands and which speak back to me from my laptop screen. I am fascinated at the shift in my energies after I give myself permission and the freedom to express what wants and needs to be written.
I come across a post entitled ‘The Healing Power Behind Sharing Our Stories’ by Terri Kirby-Erickson. She writes, “It is a relief to say something other than, ‘My brother died in an accident.’”
The words move me. They inspire me to write about that chapter in my life.
Maybe that is the turning point — when I am able to write about that part in my life story other than simply saying,
“I was the other woman.”
Might there be an impulse that wants to be given a voice and its rightful space? To speak my truth?
However, as has been my dilemma — that other memoir writers share — how much do I share without offending the people involved? What level of detail do I include, enough to give substance to the story, yet, not too much that I over-share — without hurting others, even if it is unintentional? (But then again, that’s inescapable.)
Now, not only am I confused whether or not to reply to his two-year-old email, I am also going back and forth if I will write about that chapter in my life through this site, and how much of it do I share.
When in doubt, don’t.
Still, I am adamant. I want to be very clear and very sure — to not simply sit on the fence.
And I want the answer NOW. (So goes the demand of my little Nadine….)
I read his email again. (Yes, I still have it.) It dawns on me why I chose not to reply.
While I sensed how carefully he must have worded his brief email, as I said in my earlier post, it was vague and even sounded like a teaser. Like a carrot was being dangled, waiting for me to take the bait.
Sure, maybe he was being a guy who is afraid of rejection, hence, the indirectness and vagueness. Still. What he said and how he said it wasn’t exactly the most effective motivation to make me jump in joy and respond with excitement.
Yes, it’s my perception and my interpretation, but isn’t that how the human dynamics and interactions work?
It’s been a very long time since I consulted divination cards. I didn’t even bring any deck with me during my travels in recent years.
However, because I want the answers NOW — my little Nadine now has her hands on her waist, lips pouting — I check out Colette Baron-Reid’s site where, thankfully, her oracle cards are available online for consultation for free.
The card I pick?
“In my House of Night there is one who has betrayed herself and all those who looked up to her, choosing the White Bull. When you choose the symbol of Deceit I am asking you to be very careful about your motives when you make your choices. I am also warning you that someone may be stabbing you in the back. No matter what the circumstances of your question, I am warning you about deceit. There will be a price to pay for betrayal in all forms. Only you know how much it will cost. That said, although the White Bull can seduce a person into the energy of betrayal, the Black Bull and myself together are stronger. You are forewarned.”
I am forewarned. I am being asked to be very careful about my motives when I make my choices. I am being warned that someone may be stabbing me in the back. I am being warned about deceit. There will be a price to pay for betrayal in all forms.
I am forewarned.
(Deception. Lies. Manipulation. Betrayal. These themes have come up for me this year big time, and are still, obviously, coming up for me. I blogged about that here.)
I step outside to the veranda, and the coolness of the evening welcomes me. A light breeze caresses my cheeks. I raise my shoulders close to my ears as I feel the chill of the night, as well as the chills that Neferet’s message gives me. I rub my palms against the softness of my bare arms to warm me.
I gaze up at the moon beaming so luminously as I heave a sigh of relief.
I think about that chapter in my life, and the man with whom I shared it with — his email, and all.
I am appreciative that I am recalling and remembering — without any regrets or resentments. Only fondness and gratefulness.
And a soft yet strong voice echoes from within,
When all you have is the past and a shared history, it is best left where it rightfully belongs — in the past.
In life, sometimes, there is simply, ‘No Turning Back.’
I once more hold Susan Lewis’ book gently against my chest. And I take to heart the message of Neferet.
Two words softly escape my upturned lips — ‘Thank you.’
# # #