Sunday, August 24, 2008

I am.... a quilt?

It was during those searching adolescent years, when I first was aware of the Gentle Voice Within. Of course, I know now, that God has been "stalking" me much longer than I can remember, but it was new to me then.

I was at camp - working in the office, the summer between my junior and senior year of high school. Across from the office sat a rock and a tree. I'd spent so much time that summer beneath the branches of the hemlock that the camp staff began to refer to it as "Linda's Rock". And it was. The rock was perfectly shaped to hold me - sitting upright, or reclined, the crevices of the rock supporting my back, shoulders, head. I had full view of the camp road that passed between the office and my rock, but was not easily visible from the road. I spent hours on that rock, journaling the mundane, and struggling with the question that pulled at my core. "Who am I?"

It was the beginning of a multi-decade exploration of my Self... oh yes, it's still in process. But that day, as I sat, hidden beneath the branches of the hemlock, I was aware of pieces of my Self. The pieces were qualities I'd modeled after the influential people in my life - those that I admired, respected and loved. "I am.... responsible, like Debbie; a good listener, like Mimi..." I wrote. The list continued, each quality qualified with a "like".

I lay back upon the rock, stared into the branches of the tree, and sighed. I was seeing the qualities I possessed, but felt very fragmented and not "me". I closed my eyes and sighed again. With the next inhale, I had this vision of a quilt. A quilt? "Yes. A quilt." At first I didn't understand - neither the meaning of the vision nor the voice. Then, as if answering my unspoken question, the Gentle Voice Within continued to explain. "A quilt is made of pieces of this and pieces of that. But, sewn together in its own unique way, it becomes an entity of its own: beautiful, comfortable, warm." I smiled to myself... Ah. A quilt. I am a quilt.


kwr221 said...

Oooh, I remember that rock. And you on that rock.

Always writing. :-)

Linda said...

....and now you know about what...