So many of the thoughts here are identical to the ones I’ve entertained as I came out of Christianity. The Holy Spirit is my spirit. It is me.
This spring and summer have been a delightful whirlwind of activity. For a number of weeks leading up to the summer solstice, I couldn’t imagine being alone, filling each day and night with fun and friends. There were moments when I wondered if I could even consider myself an introvert anymore.
Then as the summer peaked and entered into the waning half of the year, I felt a shift.
“It’s time,” a small voice seemed to whisper.
I didn’t need to question what it was time for either. I knew instinctively that I was turning inward, beginning a more private part of my journey. Solitude suddenly seemed not only appealing but necessary. Whereas a week before I would have considered it a waste of a weekend to be stuck at home alone, my ideal Friday night was now an evening spent with my journal.
I know, this isn’t a particularly…
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