heat stroke.
September 9, 2009
it has to be the heat, i keep telling myself.
the loops of coherence in my brain sizzle and pop, making new connections, poking at anxiety i have no desire to confront, inspiring want in me – so unbelievably strong.
things are changing and they are changing fast.
already my world greets my senses in brand new ways – i hear helicopters when i used to hear waves, i smell heat rising off of asphalt when i used to smell ocean air, i drip with sweat in a tank top + shorts when i used to be permanently dressed in jeans + hoodie, and i feel. i feel desire and longing and hunger in ways that are fiercely tearing out of my chest and bleeding onto the floor.
it must be the heat, i keep telling myself.
wanting.
craving.
willing even. to get down on my knees and beg.
a starved vampire licking my lips.
a feral cat ready to pounce.
find me, i want to scream.
help me morph these circuitous words into faith.
into a free flowing river of love.
she sits back.
finding shade.
believing.
hoping.
expecting.
it must be the heat, she says.
it must be the heat.
first.night.
September 6, 2009
it is. the first night in my new space. once again sharing space with another person – a housemate, a friend i am hoping to know more. my cats are exploring, roaming in the nooks + crannies of the boxes piled in the living room downstairs, and i am being forced, once again, to let go.
their worlds have expanded as my dreaming begins anew.
today. as we drew closer and closer to this new home, i noticed a bubbling of excitement growing inside. that same giddy joy that washes over you, slowly, then turbulent, when finally indulging in a guilty, forbidden pleasure… los angeles just might be my guilty pleasure. i wonder at the joys she will unveil as i give myself more time, more permission, to indulge.
on this first night i am calm. i am the warm air sitting still in my room. i am the buzz of the helicopter overhead, refusing sleep at the promise of tomorrow.
i am here.
i am home.
…wondering still how + when the missing will begin.
last. night.
September 5, 2009
it is. the last night here in the bay…in my little cottage by the beach, and my emotions mirror the ebb + flow, the crash and whimper of the waves i listen to nearby.
i hear also the clack of the little kitty claws, scurrying back and forth across the emptied floors. embracing the openness in a way only they can. i see breath. breathing space. possibility. letting go. i feel memories. i recall a dance. and in the pause between inhale and exhale, i hold back the many whispers only nostalgia can hear. because i am afraid.
afraid that in the sweet release of letting go, i will in fact break down. that i will in fact lose the tension in my knees and momentarily forget how to stand.
at the same time, i am afraid that instead, nothing will happen. that the deluge of feared emotion will actually not happen at all.
i have written before about what it means to miss someone. something. someplace. i was preparing myself in part for this departure. this shift. this. i expect those feelings to kick in, or at least just tap me on the shoulder but what i find in turning around, is rather, fear of simply that which is unknown.
we sat on a concrete bench yesterday and i read his words on paper, threaded together as images and memories, seductions and dreams. my attention has been caught. and yet, i wonder, will i miss him?
we cast a circle in the sand, called in our gods, our spirit guides, and cast a blessing for the past, the present, our shared potential future. with them on either side, i feel protected, balanced, powerfully safe. and i wonder, how will i miss them?
one last night. this final night. in this house that has rocked me to sleep so many restless nights these past 3 1/2 years. i touch the walls, caress the hardwood under my sore feet and utter thanks to the spirits dwelling within. here, i have been healed. here, i have been held. here, i was given space to spread my wings and fly. and yet, even here, i wonder, will i miss it?
i am afraid that i will actually not miss this space at all.
i am ready to go.
i have said goodbye.
my feet are headed south.
