Athena Grey

Remember when you discovered that something wonderful had to be kept secret because sharing it might break it? 

Remember how every young witch learned that to keep silent was an integral part of the magic?

How can I possibly believe these things and still keep a public journal?

Sometimes silence just means silence.  I've said that before. I've never reclaimed the silence as much as in recent months. It's not the restless silence of boredom. It is the peaceful silence of being comfortable in my own skin. I have never felt so satisfied in years. I am not running away from the Now, towards some undefined place that in turn I would run away from.  I am content in my own joy. I don't need anyone's praise to feed my satisfaction.

Even my dreams have picked up a new voice. She provides the subtext, the running commentary of reason and understanding.

That's as much as I can say