There's a Calm Before the Storm, I know; It's Been Coming for Some Time

A journal entry from October 2015:

...a pang in my heart and welling behind the eyes. A smile and a goodbye. A peaceful beauty encapsulated by turmoil. In the immediate days prior, I felt insignificance, wonderment, sadness, a shattered heart, renewal, longing, being recognized, gratitude, stiffness and validation. And now a new feeling in my chest, one that feels a bit like "butterflies"...probably due to the newness of my shifting experience. And a sweaty right arm-pit. I've always wondered why my right arm pit sweats, and not my left...I digress...all very much playing significant roles in my journey.

There I was sitting at a gas station where HWY 21 and HWY 75 meet, having just walked through the pouring rain...I smiled at the man walking across the parking lot, a real smile...my heart immediately filled with the warmness that his smile offered back. The connection. The unplanned, minute event that I allowed myself to feel. I wasn't sure how it was going to be unleashed, but in that parking lot I came to know...

As I frantically rushed to the lake, the posted rules of the road crawled through my thoughts and I was annoyed, but I obeyed. I obeyed and felt ANNOYED. I wasn't annoyed at the road, or the rules...I was annoyed that I couldn't get there fast enough. I was able to feel it. Truly FEEL it. When I turned off the highway, my feelings took control and I went faster, I was safe, but fast. The 3 miles reminded me of "Caution Flying Debris"...I laughed. I laughed because it was funny. My body trembled, my heart raced and my right arm pit was soaked. I'm pretty sure my door was open before I came to a complete stop. I walked calmly to the edge of the lake...the howl of the wind was crisp against my face. And just like that a peaceful chaos erupted...

Present day, January 2016:

The caution sign was something I had stumbled upon on a trip to the same mountain lake 2 months prior to my journal entry...I laughed then, too. Snapped a picture and filed it away until today. There I was in the middle of the wilderness, perplexed as to what the flying debris could have been.

I do believe now, on the outer fringe of things in which I have no control over, somewhere in the storage room of my subconscious mind, the caution sign had spoke directly to me. Flying debris was percolating, and I was completely unaware of it.

And in October, at the waters edge, I released my flying debris...

Set completely free.