"One tries to cure signs of growth, to exorcise them, as if they were devils, when really they might be angels of annunciation."
What a release it is to write that you forget yourself, your
companions, forget where you are or what you're going to do next...to
be so drenched in work your work that you feel you're drenched in
sleep or in a body of water. Keystrokes coming alive on the laptop
in front of you. Then, pricked by hunger, I rise in a daze for an
afternoon snack. Reeling from my self absorption, I come back to the
chore of providing nourishment, as if it were a lifeline to reality
after almost drowning in a sea of words. I welcome the firm ground
under my feet. I hate taking breaks, but I know it's a necessity to
reduce a growing number of physical boundaries. Lazily, I grab a
bowl of fruit and sit outside in the thick humid air. The lack of
blue skies haven't clouded my thoughts but inspired a longing to run
again. I hate that the feeling comes often, but I have learned to accept it as my
nature.
And when we are heavy and relaxed as the seaweed under our feet,
we return to the intimacy of our cottage for the evening. We sip
wine in leisure in front of a fire. We start dinner and we talk.
Because good communication is stimulating as strong coffee, it's hard
to sleep after. And so we go out again into the night. We walk up
the beach and when we are tired of walking, we lie flat on the sand
under a bowl of stars and take in the magnitude of the universe.
This is what I thirst for after the smallness of the day, of work,
of details, of intimacy and even communication. I thirst for the
magnitude and universality of a night full of stars, pouring into
my soul like a fresh tide. Then at last, from the immensity of
this heavenly body, we walk back to the small cottage glowing from
the mist of darkness with the embers still smoldering in the fireplace.
What a wonderful day this would be I think turning it around in my head to its
starting point. What has made it so perfect? It was freedom. A
setting not cramped in space or in time. It was a balance of
physical, intellectual and social life. It had an easy unforced
rhythm. A friendship balanced on a shaft of air like a seagull.
I am reminded of these kinds of things when I talk to other women
friends. We all want the same...a pure relationship not weighted
down with irrelevancies, just life itself, the accumulations of life
and of time. It is free of ties or claims, unburdened by
responsibilities about the future or debts to the past.
I realize my life lacks this quality of significance because there
is so little empty space. Too many activities, and things to occupy
my time. There are too many pages to fill with words, too many hopes
and dreams to fulfill.
For is it not possible that middle age can be looked upon as a
second flowering, a second growth or even a kind of second
adolescence? So, when I am reminded by my women friends that
sometimes playing with makeup and getting a new hair style matters
more, then I will take those few precious moments and run with them
with joy in the now, and peace that I am where I am supposed to
really be.
I want to have that kind of pure friendship. You inspire me every time I read one of your posts. I have truly missed your words of encouragement.
ReplyDeleteI have found in old age that laughing with friends in a shared moment is one of my greatest joys, Glad to see you writing again, Alabama
ReplyDeleteSo when are we leaving? I cherish my time with my women friends..... I come away refreshed and anew. I am thankful that I have a husband that understands my need for this. Whether I am away for a day reconnecting or a week up north in Houghton Lake ...I come back not feeling so weighted down.
ReplyDeleteok...I told you days ago that I would read this in a bit. I have finally gotten around to it this afternoon...lol...I feel in your words the same girl I know in school, but with a few very important difference's. The girl has grown up, now finally after all this time is finding the importance of what her life was, is and is still yet to happen. To instead of running, "away" is now running, "with". I am not a water baby as you are, but instead I navigate to the woods, the tree's, the coolness of the air and the smell of the leaves. I find my peace there and walk and talk to everyone and everything that watch's me as I renew.
ReplyDeleteThink I'll let you in on another secret...lol...I haven't really written much for months and months. I'm handing you the blame for this. Yep...you ! In the miles that keep us from sharing a pot of coffee and the long talks that I miss so deeply...sharing stories of children and grandchildren, laughter and tears, reading your words give me idea after idea for another short story. My head swim's today......(((hugs)))