I found this in my drafts and forgot to check when it was written before publishing it. So I made up a date. It should be accurate from within a month's span. *shrug*
There I was, with my cheek pressed into the tufts of bright kelly green grass. Blades were pushing patterns into my skin. An ant had made it's way up my arm, over my sleeve, and on my back. From there it traveled up my neck and started to transverse my scalp, winding it's way through my hair. I did not move. It paused briefly to rub its antennae with its front legs in an effort to clean the oils and sweat residue from my scalp off so it can perceive more clearly. It continued on its journey stopping a few more times in an effort to keep itself tidy and "see" better, I presume. Eventually it finished its trek over my body, finding a blade of grass to climb down.
How long had I been here? Why was I here? I could no longer recall. My eyes stared blankly forward, and slightly skyward. A monarch meandered across my line of sight. Pausing to taste the nectar of a nearby, brightly colored flower. Funny how it was a day like any other butterfly day. How strange to think it's life will only be about two to six weeks. How long has it been alive? How much time did it have left? I suspect it never gave it much thought. It just saw that beautiful flower and smelled it's sweet offerings and was drawn in.
I recalled moments in my life, as a young woman, where the sweet nectar of another person made me forget it all. How long I had been alive; what sort of future lies ahead. When the warmth of their skin radiated through the thin fabric of their clothes. The nearness of me made their temperature rise, breathing quicken, skin flush. Did I know the kind of power I possessed? Maybe on some cellular level. A hint of a smile on my lips, pink with arousal. An eyebrow slightly raised. I felt the power rush through me. I felt like a goddess. One of many amazing moments I wouldn't trade for the world. But inwardly I had to laugh. Youth is wasted on the young.
I wish I had known so many things. I called myself fat. But I wasn't. I had a narrow waist and juicy thighs. A heart shaped ass and full breasts. Such inward self hate. If I could go back I would have held on to my goddess moments. I'd look in the mirror and see my slightly rounded, but still quite small belly and I'd see it as the soft spot that held my creativity. I'd see my long, thick hair and loved the small cowlick in the front. I'd have looked at myself and known I was doing my best to live from a genuine place. I wouldn't let my differences stab at me and believe the ridicule. I'd have been kinder all around.
And there I was. Collapsed into odd angles into this clearing. A chill in the air. The sun had long since begun it's descent. In a couple more hours darkness would lie over me, blanketing me in a cool night's breeze. But for now the last bits of the evening sun warmed my skin.
A bird began to swoop around in big circles. Languidly letting the currents carry it around and around. Slowly, it spiraled down and landed about four feet from my still form. It began to peck the ground, keeping one eye on me. It's own senses telling it not to trust that this human will continue to remain unmoving. It appeared to catch a bug or two and then stood there, staring at me, occasionally hopping a half an inch or so in whatever random direction. It cocked it's head to the side, then back again. Then it flew to a nearby bush and studied me a bit longer before flying off out of view.
There was something blissful about this. It had been so long since I had felt this sort of peaceful observance. I had spent so much of my life over thinking this or that and holding busyness in high esteem. Intelligence held my value so I had to prove that I was smart and ever the thinker. But here I was. My phone not in arm's reach. Nowhere near WiFi. The only sounds were that of nature. Birdsong. Crickets. The breeze blowing through the branches of nearby trees. I don't think I ever appreciated a moment like this quite so much as I did in this very moment. All the "observing the thought then letting it go" talk by spiritual teachers and the sincere yogis to the pretentious, self absorbed fools. I know because I was one of them. Stressed out, anxiety filled, insomniac, yet haughty enough to roll my eyes when being coached on what it was to have a "monkey mind".
Why hadn't I enjoyed it all more? The subtle herbs in my chai this morning, instead of swilling it down on my way to a meeting, more concerned with the caloric content instead of the carefully chosen and measured herbs steeped the perfect amount of time to lend the perfect flavor. Or the expensive meal I had with some co-workers last Friday. We were talking about exercise and the sad moms who "let themselves go" and always seemed to be a little "touched" in the head that we saw on our lunch that day. That's what's happens when you have no goals. That's what happens when you have no perseverance. They were cleaning up dirty faces at the playground and we were making our asses look amazing with our brisk walk.
Another example. I walked by the town center late last fall, talking on the phone about this, that or the other thing, while the Christmas tree lighting. I stopped at a corner as an older lady, hair graying, looking disheveled, asked with a smile if I was going to go watch. She mentioned something about a children's choir singing carols. I smiled, politely, and said how I wish I could, but "..time stops for no one." I thought I was being polite, but in reality I was being smug. I was startled by the look of pity on her face. She returned my thinly veiled condescending smile with a sad smile and a seeing look in her eyes. I turned it around in my head to her not having any idea what "reality" is like. In this moment of clarity I realized that she knew I was the one who needed pity.
My consciousness drifted back to each of those moments and saw things I hadn't seen before.
