Hi angels, this is a reflection from my last morning in North Carolina. It was fuelled by my trying to figure out how to answer that question I keep getting, "How are you doing?" The short answer doesn't exist. Because I feel about six hundred things at once. Strong, delicate, trusting, sad, excited, blurry... Here's what I mean.
I went out on the deck, brushing my hair as I looked over the forest. Tonight it would already be a memory, fading under city lights.
I wished on a stray lash and went inside, putting on the same clothes I left with. Frayed suede shirt, jeans, flip flops from the third grade. And the mirror had me think about endings and beginnings, why I travel.
I prayed and breathed, remembering.
I’d adjusted my clock to the sun and the moon, and listened when they said I was different. I’d held onto my gold ring, traced its symbol encrusted for strength. I’d listened to Poetry + Fuel on loop, knowing fall was coming, that kids would be going back to school. For them, it was a new year.
I packed my notebook, sketchbook, tubes of paint, watercolour brush, and kissed the pup, heard myself say I didn’t know if I wanted to leave. Stood anyway.
It was time.
I thought again about endings, beginnings, sun, and rain.
