dripping and salty
I am still in the time machine over here. Things are moving so quickly, with such intensity that mostly it feels bad eighties special effects. A little blurry, a little nauseating, definitely difficult to distinguish one thing from another. I never know what date it is. And the meeting surprise me as they pop up on my calendar.
Each day it takes significant effort to pull on the brakes and for a few moments stop. What color is the sky as my alarm goes off just before dawn? Is that a squirrel or a bird trilling off in the distance? What does it feel like on my skin as the sun sits high over head and the wind picks up? Where am I? Who is here with me? What lets me know I belong?
Yesterday was particularly long, there was a lot of transportation, there was an all school event complete with singing, weird get-to-know-you class parent speed-dating, and 350 children and their family eating from a burrito bar. There was a mild sickness taking the wind out my sails. It was an ordinary long day.
Some time in the middle of the school event, which was graciously happening at a closed Boy Scout camp on a crystalline bay, I slipped off , climbed over some rocks, took off as many clothes as I could given that a pack of fourth graders were collecting dead crabs on the beach and jumped into the cold water.
Each September cold water dip is like the sweetest August peach. Fleeting. Totally delicious. Extra fleeting. Startlingly alive.
And most importantly time stopped. The incessant budgeting framework in my head turned off and I was cold, dazzled, and so full. I touched wonder for a fleeting moment staring at barnacles, oyster shells, craggy black rocks.
I was there. Dripping wet. Figuring out how to get dressed without flashing the stragglers of the fourth grade class on the beach.
A smile cracked across my face, salty, ridiculous.
I thought about it all throughout the rest of the day, as I was screamed at for the hour car ride home. I remember how feeling alive slows down the time machine. It places my dripping wet feet onto sharp rocks, under an eternity of blue smoky sky. When that happens it is not just the moment but its also me. I too can stretch out in every direction filling up all the space and what a gift that is.
May you stretch out in all the directions.
Being and Breathing was so lovely. Subscribers will get access to this as well as everyone who came! Come to Being and Breathing in October! Can’t wait to see you there!
More classes are coming in the fall! I am working hard on them over here and can’t wait to share more soon.
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