Meeting Oprah

“I am going to meet Oprah”, I whispered.

“Isn’t that great”, she replied smiling at me.

Overwhelm at verbalising the words honoured the secret that it was. Conviction and clarity and all the feels that go with it, the relief was powerful.  

We all smiled, all knowing, floating above the mortals. It’s great to be born with a silver spoon in your mouth.  

What went up, did come down. The euphoria weaning to give space for the confusion. Had I told just the one or all of them? Were they delighted for me or did they begrudge me? Did they tell the whole place?  Would they understand the need for privacy or would they want to ask me questions? What would I say?  

All smiling and laughing or maybe it was just jealous they were. Who could blame them, going about their day with the sameness of the day before and the day after that.  

Knowing is a sort of a sense, you feel it in the present, see it in the distance and hear it all the time. It kills the worry and has a calmness. You never tell on it, it is always there for you when nothing else is. You have to trust, it delivers if you do.  

The outcome as clear as day, laid out in all its glory. The absolute sense of assuredness in the path, when you know you know!

The writer sat for many years in this place of knowing. Confiding in the spiritual types with no need for worry, they always understood. The knowing won’t ever go away of its own accord, knowing alone is not enough, action has to follow and then the knowing will do its work.

For a small surgical procedure, the anaesthetic was powerful. 

On the way back down it all sort of came out. Not intentional or pre meditated, just with a force of nature. They didn’t bat an eyelid, said they hear all sorts in the recovery room, wild and wonderful, could write a book on it.  

So, when you see me sit on Oprah’s couch remember you heard it here first.

They don’t lock you up for knowing these days.