Off kilter, out of whack, and generally upset. Our needs – MY needs are being met, but it’s a half-meeting, a taste, a compromise. A handful of fluffy popcorn where a more nourishing substantial soup should be. Except when they’re not, and then the need is a vast chasm waiting to be filled.
I bum a cigarette here and there. There’s great fun in telling people “I don’t smoke” as I take a drag. I don’t need the nicotine anymore – I need something much more fundamental. I need visible proof that I’m inhaling and exhaling as I should be.
Eating has become an issue again. Well, not really eating. Hunger. I don’t realize I’m hungry, and not many foods appeal when I do realize it. Or I get hungry and think “I *just* ate” – and look at the clock to see that eight hours have passed. Salt burns my lips and tongue, grease upsets my stomach, sweet tea gives me heartburn. Isn’t that the holy trinity of southern cooking right there? Or I do realize I’m hungry, starving in fact, and quite ready to dive headfirst into the closest buffet. (Until I actually *smell* the buffet. Then? I’m nauseous all over again.)
I sing along in the car as Alicia tells me everything’s gonna be alright and manage to breathe a bit more. Move through the daily routine and get everything done.
I took a page out of Holly’s book and fold laundry in the closet. I can hide in there and squeeze out a tear or three if I need to. I don’t remember how old I was. Young. Little. But I do remember Daddy telling me “You don’t cry around me. Stop crying.” I remember him poking me in the ribs and making me giggle so I wouldn’t cry anymore. To this day I can’t. Simply can’t.
This…this isn’t a ripple in the pond. This is a rip in the space/time continuum, it is a world-changing tsunami, it is as inevitable and as invisible as the wind. There is no One to fight – it is everything and anything all at once.
I look at this picture…this blossom standing in defiance of the snow surrounding it, and find a bit of strength. I take my camera with me almost everywhere and snap moments of frozen zen whenever I can. Not “any port in a storm” – we’ve been there before and not going back. Breathe. Take the issues one at a time because picking them all up at once is more than anyone can should have to handle. One foot in front of the other. Did I mention to breathe?
And to take the end of the rope I’m holding in my hands and whip the ends