Just. Add. Water

Another midnight awakens me, shouldering aside sleep to assert time’s passage. The cat assumes her bed-by-the-door & watches me pull out the computer to write after penning a letter. The thoughts will emerge, clarified by caffeine as I carefully sip on heat & sweet.

As my third year here begins, I find the treasure chest of travel washed up on the beach where I started from so many years ago. Those years have lost their weight: too many now to hold me back – the level has slipped to post-apogee; the downhill is apparently required. This body is ready for the vast slide down into limitlessness. I’ve earned my way uphill enough.

Here, the earth is smooth, bonded & bounded by water just below & all around. Here the crystals are seashells, fragile containers all. Yet treasure chests wash up on the beaches, dreams & drums therein…

I don’t question this stirring anymore. I don’t move lightly into the downhill rush of my lifelong avalanche for change. I don my swim gear & slip on in, knowing when I arrive on mountains I will need new clothes. I am certain of their provenance even as I recognize I know nothing about the process, only the results.

My vision board manifests. Some things I know for certes, I want a dog with silky ears & a bold cat unafraid of shadows. I want writing & friends & tables in between holding savory food. I want poems & a window seat to read them in, vistas to view, trees to love, green grass to nourish these tired eyes. I know all I wish is held nearby, waiting to burst over me in light’s altogether surround.

Yesterday I ran out of current: my phone left unplugged lost all charge, my computer had one tic of power, my Kindle two. I worked out in a flurry of strength reborn after a bout with a pelvis refusing to extend itself to allow me to stand straight, a time of wearing two pain patches, swallowing my last prescrbed extra-strength aspirin saved for such a moment, from unrolling the yoga mat to stretch on my bedroom floor, wondering WTH this came from. Wondering if I’d ever become anything other than a blob of planned obsolescence.

But I woke without pain & raced to the gym to wrestle with resistance, realizing I had one more day of triumph to go. I blew through an unexpectedly contentious day at work somehow repeating Monday in its business & demand. I did 14 laps in the pool at the Y without stopping & laid in the sun 20 minutes more before driving home to plug everything back into the walls where mysterious electricity is to be found. I faded into sleep at 8:30 to reawaken at midnight’s stroking.

I feel sleep closing my eyes again, now 2 a.m., after a letter & a blog. At this hour I can feel change gathering, change I’m sidetracked from during daylight’s immediacy. I am comforted by the thoughts insomniacs do their part to knit it all together. I recharge the mask I’ll wear all day doing that earning thing yet again. I list the bills to be paid when the earnings arrive tomorrow. I realize all scheduling has shifted to divine time – Daylight Savings be damned.

This is the life I’ve chosen for now. Was there ever anything else?