
I follow so many bloggers who seem to be struggling with their own identity. “I feel lost,” that’s a statement I have read over and over. It always makes me wonder what happened to them. How can you get lost, if you are always there?

I follow so many bloggers who seem to be struggling with their own identity. “I feel lost,” that’s a statement I have read over and over. It always makes me wonder what happened to them. How can you get lost, if you are always there?

We all know the feeling when the rest of world around us just disappears, when we sit there in silence, in our favorite chair and we start daydreaming.
They walk through my dreams every night
Haunting, silent, an essence just beyond reach
Supplying all I need and yet supplying nothing

“Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul
And sings the tune without the words
And never stops at all.”
― Emily Dickinson
There are so many lost, alone and confused souls searching for answers and reasons why their lives seem so out of control. Imagine where we all would be without hope?
I learned in school about Fate and didn’t really like what I heard. The Moirai or Fates were three goddesses, three sisters, who planned our life. Their names were Clotho, the one who spins the thread of life; Lachesis, she who draws the lots and determines how long one lives, by measuring the thread of life; and Atropos, the inevitable, she who chose how someone dies by cutting the thread of life with her shears. They were often described as being ugly and old women, stern and severe. Three days after a child was born, it was thought that the Moirai would visit the house to determine the child’s fate and life. The Moirai controlled the fates of both, morals and gods alike.
I don’t have surreal experiences, but I have my moments and that has been like that all my life -as far as I can remember. It doesn’t happen too often, sometimes not for years, but then out ot the blue it hits me.