Journal Entry – Grace

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Journal – 26th January, 2018

He took me to Berwick Botanical Gardens this morning. We stood gazing at the scene at the lake both completely immersed in a world of our own but also of each other. We agreed a short story could be written and also a canvas painted from our vantage point:


The way the lake reeds allowed themselves to be lifted gently by the soft, summer breeze, folding slightly this way and then back again, all in unison, in harmony, in perfect motion. The way they acquisesced to summer, to nature, to the soundless wind and then went back to standing tall, serene, perfectly composed, perfectly unaffected, reminded me of forgiveness: the fingernail clippings left carelessly on my dressing table last night; the weeds that had popped up on the garden path to the pool; the Uni assignment now due in less than 48 hours; the phone calls and emails needing my attention; the crumpled, stained sheets on my bed; the messy hair that needed washing that had been carelessly raked back with my fingers into a kind-of bun; the children at home waiting for back massages and home-cooked meals – all of it! I let it all go in that moment. I realised the futility, the ridiculousness of self-loathing and I let it all go. I forgave myself. And then I understood about him and I too:

Him; the strong one, the provider, my protector, raised with pride, with ego, to conquer, to lead, to compete, to complete, to teach, to help me understand, to show me the way, to be my guiding hand.

And me; so full of feeling, of vulnerability, sensitive, creative, a conduit of nature, a direct channel for him, his sustenance, providing a life source, the healer, the gentle and graceful one.

Finally, I understood and I forgave. I bend to his will and he bends to my needs. We complete one another. We are the circle of life. Together we dance in nature, very much to our own tune and together our natures become attuned. Together, we become one.



Disclaimer: please note that these words in no way reflect the life philosophies of the writer. These words carry a disclaimer about the characters bearing no relation to persons living or deceased. This is a work of FICTION.

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