Nanowrimo- Intuition

40,841 words....

She made some lunch and thought about her other siblings.  Some closer, some further away, but she knew in her heart if she had needed anyone of them they would be there for her.  And their spouses too, who were more like brothers and sisters, than in-laws, to her.  It made for a big, noisy, (and nosy) family. 

Now there were nieces and nephews, great nieces and great nephews – she had a myriad of relatives.

She had a myriad of friends.

Why then, did she often feel so isolated and alone?

Was it just a matter of being born under a certain constellation of stars and planets?  Was it being the fourth child of six?  Was it being a melancholic temperament?  Was it because she thought too long and too hard about life rather than just living it?  Was it because she cared too much for everyone else’s safety and not enough about her own? 

If you followed the belief of some we stand on the rainbow bridge and choose our parents, choose our inherited body, choose the life we are going to live because this is the life we need to teach us the lessons we want to learn. 

What was she learning from this life?  What had she forgotten about the agreements she made in the spiritual world to be the daughter of one, the wife of another, the mother to two, the sibling to five.  What were those agreements?

She grabbed her swimming bag and headed out.  She would use the sixty-four laps of her mile to think on that.  What were those agreements?

While she swam she thought about pre-incarnation agreements.  She didn’t get very far.  How was she to know what her, their, agreements were? Did she and her mother agree to have the relationship they did?  She and her father?  She and her children?  She and her husband? 

It was confusing and complicated and beyond her capacity to muddle through it.

At least she got the swim in. 

Some days that was as good as it got.  Some days getting up, feeding yourself, and getting a swim in was as good as it got.  And some days that was enough. 

Today, though, it wasn’t.

She phoned her sister back.  She told her about the crumpled piece of paper lying under the fridge.  

Together they wept.