|Emily Dickinson (1830–86). Complete Poems. 1924.|
Part One: Life
|THE SOUL selects her own society,|
|Then shuts the door;|
|On her divine majority|
|Obtrude no more.|
|Unmoved, she notes the chariot’s pausing||5|
|At her low gate;|
|Unmoved, an emperor is kneeling|
|Upon her mat.|
|I ’ve known her from an ample nation|
|Then close the valves of her attention|
I'm all jumbled, and when I'm all jumbled, as introvert, I must know myself and retreat into my shell to process. Blogging can so often mimic the shell process since so many of my readers are faceless and far away. And since I do hover on the edges of extrovertedness, I do want to share my struggles, and I know that I'm called as a Believer to share them with my community, that part of my walk is to let people know that I need help so that they can help me and so that we can be real, one to the other. Because it creates a bridge so that they feel they can come to me when they need help. It's a delicate balance, community and relationships...
But so much is happening that I have to "choose my society and close the door." Self-preservation wins out. (A true true introvert I suppose would just shut the door without saying she was. I warned you I can be a drama queen...)
So I'm taking a little bloggy hiatus.
Emily from Bartleby