A house is all right for a man to work in. He brings his work into the house, a place is cleared for it; the house rearranges itself as best it can around him. Everybody recognizes that his work exists. He is not expected to answer the telephone, to find things that are lost, to see why the children are crying, or feed the cat. He can shut his door. Imagine (I said) a mother shutting her door, and the children knowing she is behind it; why, the very thought of it is outrageous to them. A woman who sits staring into space, into a country that is not her husband’s or her children’s is likewise known to be an offence against nature. So a house is not the same for a woman. She is not someone who walks into the house, to make use of it, and will walk out again. She is the house; there is no separation possible.
~Alice Munro, Dance of the Happy Shades
I must have decided wrongly, because I am not at peace.
I made the decision myself, but I can also decide otherwise.
I want to decide otherwise, because I want to be at peace.
I do not feel guilty, because the Holy Spirit will undo all the consequences of my wrong decision if I will let Him.
I choose to let Him, by allowing Him to decide for God for me.
~A Course in Miracles
Cascading pain. The terrible is yet magnificent.
Can one being bear so much lost?
But, can she bear it if she is the one who has relinquished all?
God granted to the detail; twin turtles lazing in the cascading fountain.
As always, he enters, devil disguised as helpmate.
The tub is teeny tiny. What about the money? Potential pool party hubbub.
The feeling just isn’t quite right.
As always, she folds. Drops her dream, made-to-order.
There was never any hope.