Metaphorically speaking, I'm a xenocryst

From a purely geological perspective, a xenolith (zěn'ə-lĭth') is a piece of older rock incorporated into volcanic magma while it's still fluid. A xenocryst (zěn'ə-krĭst') is an individual foreign crystal included within an igneous body. Confused yet? M'kay. Here's what they look like.

Moving on to the metaphor. Igneous simply means something produced under intense heat. I'm aghast fortunate to know the story of my conception. Since I know it, I'm sharing. My mom had been away visiting her sister for a week. My dad was so lonely without her that when she came home, I was conceived. Since my dad was a man passionate about everything he did, I'm guessing things were no different in the bedroom. Oh crap, I actually thought that out loud! Sorry, gotta run to my shrink to see if we can somehow erase that image from my brain. I'll be back when it's gone.

Here ya go. A pretty flower to stare at while I'm gone.

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Where was I? Oh, the metaphor. Think of my mom's uterus as the igneous formation (enough thinking, I'm getting freaked out again). The foreign body would be me. I've been told I'm an old soul by people who know. Trust me on this one—it's happened so many times, it just has to be true. Meanwhile, back in my mom's uterus, my xenolithic little old soul was surrounded by fluid for 9 happy months. Then came the day when I was unceremoniously shoved out into the glaring light of the world.

As a xenocrystic child, I was cocooned in the bosom of my family. Later I was ensconced in the land of learning. All of my life I've been surrounded by fluid motion of newer souls with strange ideas, dogmatic proclamations, and just plain old bullshit. Trying to maneuver through this morass of effluvium proved too much for me. Over time, I simply collapsed in on myself. I was no longer a xenocryst or even a xenolith.

Recovering even some of the innate xenolithic wisdom has taken years to accomplish. I've reached a point in my growth that I'm finally back to the xenocrystic state. Still learning and growing to become fully formed in preparation for the next state of being.

One thing I do remember is that deep down within each one of us lies a heart seeking peace.

We each have one. Sometimes we just need to be reminded.

Peace.

Wet Dreams . . .

Without the ocean nearby

I'd be a shadow of the woman I've become

Somehow knowing I'd get by on memories

Doing the best I could to hold onto dreams

One day hoping to recover that which is missing

Moments of peace and serenity by the sea

Wisdom ceases to be wisdom when it becomes too proud to weep, too grave to laugh, and too selfish to seek other than itself. ~ Kahlil Gibran

Peace.

Linked up to Alphabe-Thursday, MamaKat's Writer’s Workshop, Friday My Town Shoot-Out, and ABC Wednesday. Come check 'em all out!