The mighty heart

This morning I awoke with pleading on my lips and acheing in my heart. I leaf through the book of abramelin, only to find him cursing things and mocking others. Of course, he always was struggling for solitude where as I seem to default easily and naturally into it.
The dryness has come again, like a sudden storm, but one that removes instead of brings rain.
I told a lie when I said to Kelly that my pillar was broken. "It could never be" was the answer that came. But there is a part of me who despises my own strength and the understanding that has come with my many many years. I would like to just be angry and sad ...just lash out, but I know better. So what can I do but be still in the rushing slaughter of my ego, the desolation of my emotions? Nothing. Nothing if I want to withhold, finally, from the cycle of karma that enslaves me here.
Round and round the wheel of karma turns, instead of fighting it now, I clamor, stumble, and grasp my way towards the center, where the axle is still, where the shining gold of my Lord holds all in his hand, it beckons me with a light of brightness that I can see. There, in the center, the world of paradise is shining, bleaching, infinite. There lays the truth, flecked with Love, there is the great mother, smiling at me, smiling at her child, like a mother bird who has pushed her fledgling out of the nest so it can learn to fly. I see it as cruelty, she as necessity, and act of Love and learning.
Mighty heart, all you have sought, it is not so far from you, nay? Why then do you despair, for in truth, despair is the only real sin.