Land of Milk and Honey
It's truly amazing how unaware I can be.
I can ignore the cold until I get into a warm room -- and then I realize exactly how cold it really was out there.
I can wander through investigations and trials for 33 years and not realize the extent of the stress until it is over.
It seems as if "only after" do I realize the impact. I guess it is call survival mode.
Survival mode means there's no long-term or medium-term plan. It's all about getting through the next 24 hours.
It could also be called - "living in the NOW."
In any case, as I'm going through my last year's calendar, my journals and my files, organizing them into timelines, events, and reflections -- I'm realizing just how strong those head winds were.
The winds have died down now - everything feels quite peaceful.
I am looking around - wondering what this new year will look like without the winds. I'm in a new place. What freedom! It feels a little as if I've arrived. Perhaps, I am in the promised land?
Yes! It all feels very similar to that epic Exodus story.
At first the people caught in powerful Egypt had to fight their enslavement.
We too had to fight the trauma and all the other disorders of the aftermath of murder to find our freedom.
They broke free. So did we -- at great cost.
Then they found themselves in the desert.
We too found ourselves in the desert, dry, dusty, hungry and always uncomfortable living in tents - never quite knowing where we were going to land. There was no security - no place to call our own - we were not in control of our own destiny. Always on the move we were often pushed to our limits.
They wandered for 40 years, we for 33 years.
They were guided -- so were we. They had a controlling cloud by day and the fire by night. They saw the cloud as their God.
For us, our cloud was more like the justice system taking control of our sky - inserting their time schedule into our lives and dictating their truth. When it moved we moved. When it burned, we burned. Often we just sat in our hot tents and waited for the days to pass.
The good part about the Exodus story is that they didn't die. In fact the shoes of the people never wore out. The people got stronger. They learned the ways of the desert.
We didn't die either. Did we get stronger? I don't know.
When their forty years were over, they were brought to the border of their "Promised Land."
With the acquittal, we were quite unceremoniously thrust out of the desert into a new land.
Is it the "Promised Land" flowing with milk and honey?
“I dreamt -- marvellous error -- that I had a beehive here inside my heart. And the golden bees were making white combs and sweet honey from my old failures.” - Antonio Machado