Its 23.44 here in Oman. The rest of my family are sleeping. The dog is curled up in the corner of my office snoring his Arabic head off. I think he really does bark in Arabic. Spikey the invincible, wadi dog of note.
And here I am. I tried very hard to sleep. Closed my eyes, counted sheep, nothing worked. Every time I close my eyes I get a picture in my head. Im tired of trying to sleep, so I'm going to bore you with the details of this picture simply to get it out of my system. Please excuse my grammar.
I see a chair. Its a blue chair. It has fish and whales on it. Its a beautiful chair that tells stories. It is my chair. The fish and whales are circular in motion, fluidly swimming around. The fish and the whales are speaking to me, telling me, whispering to me, letting me know. Its in the corner of my room and it's from there that the rest of the house gets its look and design. The design is uniquely me. It's like I have found my purpose and it's now swimming around my head. It's who I am. It's what I am meant to be. The colours are blue and cream. Johlene is smiling at me from heaven right now. She knew how I felt, even back then when I was a awkward teenager. I think I will always miss her.
Only I sit in my chair. I can hear the voices of my children, my daughter Jayne is the loudest. I am home, finally. Jayne is still ungraciously cautious. I knew she would be. Jayne is the link to my past and my future. Jayne knows my stories, I told them to her when she was young. She has forgotten them, her subconscious my treasure chest.
People say one should follow ones heart. This chair is my home, it is where I belong. I feel it, I see it and I know it.
The chair is an armchair. Firm and comfortable. When I sit in it, the stories in my head come alive and I am able to write it all down. My fingers will not type fast enough. The story starts writing itself. I am a mere vessel in the jungle of words pushing forward to come out. I wish I could tell you of the things this chair has told me. I wish I could express it all, release the burden of my heart. Years of observation, years of questioning, years of searching. The fish show scenes of imaginings, hearing, reading, observing, obvious fiction, my prayers, my hope and my longing.
It is the most beautiful of all chairs. I am going to find it, sit in it, pray in it and most of all I am going to listen to it. It is calling me. That is why I cant sleep tonight.
And here I am. I tried very hard to sleep. Closed my eyes, counted sheep, nothing worked. Every time I close my eyes I get a picture in my head. Im tired of trying to sleep, so I'm going to bore you with the details of this picture simply to get it out of my system. Please excuse my grammar.
I see a chair. Its a blue chair. It has fish and whales on it. Its a beautiful chair that tells stories. It is my chair. The fish and whales are circular in motion, fluidly swimming around. The fish and the whales are speaking to me, telling me, whispering to me, letting me know. Its in the corner of my room and it's from there that the rest of the house gets its look and design. The design is uniquely me. It's like I have found my purpose and it's now swimming around my head. It's who I am. It's what I am meant to be. The colours are blue and cream. Johlene is smiling at me from heaven right now. She knew how I felt, even back then when I was a awkward teenager. I think I will always miss her.
Only I sit in my chair. I can hear the voices of my children, my daughter Jayne is the loudest. I am home, finally. Jayne is still ungraciously cautious. I knew she would be. Jayne is the link to my past and my future. Jayne knows my stories, I told them to her when she was young. She has forgotten them, her subconscious my treasure chest.
People say one should follow ones heart. This chair is my home, it is where I belong. I feel it, I see it and I know it.
The chair is an armchair. Firm and comfortable. When I sit in it, the stories in my head come alive and I am able to write it all down. My fingers will not type fast enough. The story starts writing itself. I am a mere vessel in the jungle of words pushing forward to come out. I wish I could tell you of the things this chair has told me. I wish I could express it all, release the burden of my heart. Years of observation, years of questioning, years of searching. The fish show scenes of imaginings, hearing, reading, observing, obvious fiction, my prayers, my hope and my longing.
It is the most beautiful of all chairs. I am going to find it, sit in it, pray in it and most of all I am going to listen to it. It is calling me. That is why I cant sleep tonight.
