Veiled Coincidences

I like waking up an hour and a half before my alarm goes off, realizing I won't be able to make it to work. Now, that could be played off as sarcasm, and despite my initial intent for it to be so, maybe it's not.

Maybe it's not so bad, being lazy and in pain. Especially when the pain is comparatively gentle and it leads me to wonder what's different. What allows me to be so free now, instead of having to endure the oh so familiar fight-and-release that happens each time? Perhaps it was a prayer I said yesterday. I pray each time, true, but I believe I've worked my way up to meaning it with every part of my physical and spiritual body when I ask. Yes I'm still achy and have to take it easy, but of course this is going to cause some discomfort... I'm not yet at a place when I can be constant and stable in my emotions and physical states. I'll get there, I can feel it on the horizon.

Now, the Latin word 'Alia' has been presented to my eyes twice today. It was interesting that my first encounter with it, this morning, was when I was searching for it in my mind. It was hiding somewhere in the back and I had half of it in front of me, yet it wouldn't materialize in my consciousness. Then, it was said to me, and I felt disappointed that I hadn't been able to dig it out of my memory in the first place. Thinking little of this, I went upstairs to the computer. Next to which I see a piece of paper with a list of names on it - the first being "Valerie Alia".

Interesting. Returning downstairs to my rehabilitation nest, I drew the word next to a tree of what may have been like a bunch of natural electrical wire, if that makes sense. Vines with a potent life force running through, was what I had in mind... Then, I read 1 Corinthians, equipped with my coloured pens. Another thing that came to my attention - as I was attempting to write "Valerie" (and even again, this second time) I accidentally (hah) wrote "Valeria" which is the name of my next door neighbour. She's elderly and Italian, I believe, and I always notice her pacing on the sidewalk in front of her house, accompanied by her cat (who, actually, had a spat with my own through the window this morning).

Intriguing, indeed. I'd always sort of felt called to make some sort of connection with her, but I am timid to present myself to her without a purpose. Perhaps I'll leave her flowers or something, but you mustn't tell her it's me... I also must refrain from sympathizing with the assumptions I make about her. I assume she must be lonely, and thus, sad, but who am I to make those judgements? Perhaps she has found all the things I'm looking for and found all the things I don't even know I'm looking for yet. Perhaps she's more fulfilled than I will ever be, and is simply pacing the sidewalk with her cat, blessing every little thing she sees. When I started writing this post, I was writing with a question... I think I've just tapped out an answer, too. Don't you love it when that happens?
Tulips. I'll leave tulips and a string of painted chesnuts.