The journey- Looking

And this what I saw-

"and in this world are signs for those who can see..."
"and which of my signs will you deny..."

and i saw many signs...

here is the first-

I don't even know me at all... and this journey was like reading all about me- who I am, what I am... all that Khawaja news...lol...

I saw love-

Funny thing is that  I had forgotten that people do love me... even though I have lost the love of one man...there is love out there that I have refused to see. And it surprised me to start to see it again... To know I am loved. By so many...

and this-

How many millions of snow flakes and no two the same...how many million hearts, and people and thoughts, how many lives we touch and those that touch us...how many experiences...and all unique and one of a kind- like me- I am the only me I will ever be- and in my own self complete- flawed, broken, beautiful, ugly, lost, found, mean and kind...all me, just me and the only me there ever will be... and I am arriving at being at peace with me...

 A Grand Central Station table top-

Amidst the hustle and bustle, rush and crunch of life, we touch so much and don't even see it. It is like touching something with a gloved hand- impersonal, un-experienced, no contact made... how much do I miss when I do that. And yes I spent a large part of my last day at Grand Central too and it was great. One of the best evenings of my whole trip- The place slows down. People leave. And still I remained. And even with people leaving, there will always be some who stay with me because they choose to stay and be there with me, because that is where they would rather be than anywhere else...and that is what I need to wait for and to find- those who choose to stay because that is where they would rather be than anywhere else...even when the last person has left. And when they leave, they leave with me. And when they are there I need to remember to take my gloves off and touch them, really feel them and  let them really touch me too and not keep the gloves on all the time...creating layers of separation and de-personalization...

I saw God-

And he let me...
I walked past St. Patrick's cathedral the first time and did not see Him. And I snapped a picture because I thought He looked beautiful and went around the block- distracted by meaninglessness... and even in the meaninglessness I saw beauty/fun/entertainment/all nice but not really much substance- bubbles and light shows, crystals and bows..and then I turned the corner and saw God again as he waited for me to approach and I walked right past and looked back a second time and He was open, waiting, welcoming me to enter and so I did- "why not?" I thought, "i just as well might..." And the minute I did, I stepped in and choked up. I looked left and I looked right. I had forgotten what to do. Do I snap a picture. Do I look around. What do you do in the presence of God? And then I sat. Just sat with Him. In Him. He sat in me. And I cried. I sat there and I cried, cried, cried... And when it was time to go because it was time to close, I got up and I lit a candle and I took God with me and I left...

And He showed me this-

He told me to hold on because the next one would be a -Happier Year-

I saw my life-

Knotted and stiff, hanging up on a wall, in a museum- And people came to gaze upon it and state "Oh wow!" and "You don't say..." They all had words and thoughts and ideas and I was in twists and turns as I tried to think, do, be what  they said. And then I just gave up and walked away. I am who I am. And yes, I am twisted and torn. I am stiff and at times forlorn. I am hanging up on a wall- and that is o k a y. . .

I saw someone who is "34 and scarred"

yes that was the title of the piece- 34 and scarred- and I thought well I am 32 and scarred. Cut deep and stitched. And I thought, "well better to be scarred at 32 and not at 34. By the time I get to 34 life will be good..." So I bade him farewell and walked on.

And then at last I got to see what I had come to see and did not even know I had come to see this-

It was a Klimt- the only one there.
It was a Klimt- how did they know he was the one I care to see the most...?
It was not just a Klimt, it was THE Klimt I needed to see, had come to see, was meant to see... above all the other Klimt's,  this day-
It was called simply- "hope"-
Hope is a four letter word-
H-O-P-E
And it was beautiful
Divine
Like hope is-beautiful and divine...
It was a woman, her belly swollen in pregnancy as she gazes down... and there are three women more with heads also down, perhaps in acknowledgment and awe, perhaps in mourning, I don't know...
I recalled that I wanted that. All of it. Hope. Another child. Love.
And I saw my hope-
This was my Klimt-
Like his Kiss- that one is mine too.
So I secretly collected this too.
And after looking at this one I left-
I did not stay to look anymore.
I had seen what I had come to see and did no even know that I had come to see it- but now that I had, I left.

I saw magic-a ball explode into confetti as the clock struck 12! On Times square- there quite by chance, right under the ball, with no wait, right in the middle where no one is allowed, because of luck? Chance? Design...?

But that was not the magic- After that ball exploded, I walked for miles, and took my coat off and put it back on many times. I went to the other end of town and had the best hot chocolate ever. I rode the subway. Walked a few blocks back home. Changed and saw nothing. Went to bed and woke up... and in the morning I saw it- a single piece- red in color- rectangular in shape- unmistakable for what it was- a single piece of confetti from that exploding ball, that held on. Clung to me. Walked all over around town and about- And I never even knew it until just now... It could have dislodged at any point. Fallen off somewhere. Honestly I could not even figure out where it had lodged on my being. It simply was- simply there, come home with me, mine to keep- just because! I looked and I saw magic! My magic. My single piece of confetti-

I saw a squirrel and it talked to me- I swear it. It talked to me. It came up on it's hind legs and twitched it's nose and chirrupped sort of. And then came right up to me and put it's paws on my boot and chirrupped again... I snapped a pic and I believe  the flash startled it.

But I looked and I saw myself in harmony with the world- So much so that a squirrel thought I was a rodent too and came over to say hello- I looked and now I know- peace is a universal language- across species. In order to look and to see and know anything- there must at first be peace-
Peace makes you accept. Acceptance makes you open. When you are open you will look and you will see. And so I saw-

I saw that I was a tree-

Firmly rooted.
I saw that my life is entangled. Much like the nether branches, entwined in delicate tendrils with other branches in a musical medley of matter. I looked and I saw my strength. Like the tree I stand tall. I looked and I saw that I am stripped of leaves at this point- in the winter- of my time. I looked and saw that I am dark and stark. That I stand alone in the cold. But then so do other trees. We all stand alone. And yet we touch in delicate and tender soft tendrils. We touch each other, other trees. In our roots and our branches. But our cores are solitary. The trunk stands alone. No trunk of any tree ever touches another trunk. I looked and I saw- I have roots and they must touch other roots. I will always have family, no matter how angry I am at them. I looked and I saw that I will always have branches and they will touch other branches and that it is okay to entwine with them. It will not rob my trunk of it's independence- My trunk will always stand alone and solitary, independent, strong. What holds me up, makes me tall- will always be me. And so I looked at the trees- and saw me-

Yes- I went looking on my journey-And I saw...