the rest of yesterday. it stormed all night. and this morning, i went back to yesterday morning. and first to this. i'd mentioned it before, that there was this one place…a space…and that i knew that whatever was supposed to go there would appear. thinking only, it would be a fragment of cloth. I imagined it being brightly colored. ?
but no. this cocoon is the Exact size. is
IT.
and after i spent some time with this, suddenly one of my occasional manic moments rose up and took off on its own. I thought of the 5 minutes with Trust. I thought of US, all over The Place in our own 5 Minutes and i suddenly saw it as a Story. A true story. I saw all of us as characters , like our own chapters…each who we are…each experiencing this time and this need for Trust in our own way, our own lives. and it just took off from there and i imagined writing a Story, of a world leaning into dystopia, these women coming from a time when dystopia WAS an imagined story that we thought not possible and finding ourselves every Thursday, merging intention and heart for 5 minutes in just our own sense of Trust…in common only the Word. Trust. which is enough. And it was glorious, all the things i imagined for this story and as i was walking over to B Garden Alyssia called and i blurted it all to her, one running sentence, hardly breathing, and she laughed and said Write It and i told her i could not possibly, i do not have what it would take, but that i would write its skeleton, its bones and SHE someday could write it. And today so much is forgotten. actually, a lot was forgotten almost as it was imagined. But it was BeautyFull and energizing. The cocoon holds it.
Jan, up near Redding sent me this book this week. Writing that Story, i would need HOURS AND DAYS AND MONTHS of research. But
this is where i would begin. I want to LEARN what is in it. Not just read about it and go on….i want to LEARN it.
windthread 
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