Month: December 2020

life suspended

I look at the body I was given

lying there on the alley pavement

unmoving and cold

paramedics surrounding me

pushing hard on my chest

but I don’t feel the gravel bite into my back

they shove what looks like an inflatable plastic shovel

in my throat and scoop me up

am I dead?

should I go with my body to the hospital?

for a moment my heart flutters and I feel

a rush of pain in my head

my chest burning

and my feet feel so cold, can’t I have a blanket?

next thing ten faces are

shouting things at me prying open my eyes

and I hear “pupils six and fixed”

someone is pushing air into my lungs with a large purple balloon

and I realize I am seeing my body again from the outside

shredded cloths all around me and my body exposed

it looks like me but it doesn’t feel like me at all

in fact I don’t feel any pain

that must mean I’m dead then I feel the jolt of

electricity sear through me and my heart jumps to life.

it is a lot

there are people who will tell you
that you create your life
the good things and the horrid things
are there because
you allow them 
or they fill some deep need

do I respond to life or create it?
do affirmations make things real?
can a vision collage bring my
dream house on the beach?
my ideal relationship?

pressure is all around to be 
whole and healthy
it is a lot
to do all the self care
time for yoga, flossing, affirmations and gratitude
meditation, hot baths and massages
it is a lot
when I just want to get in my car 
and drive to Maine and 
eat a giant lobster roll
was it down with a cold beer
and keep my cell phone off
so nobody can find me
and stare at the waves while
I breathe in the salty seaweedy air
it is a lot
to be a compassionate listener
to be the stable rational one
to always be the one with the answers
when really there are no answers

it is a lot

I always knew I loved

I always knew I loved leaves

viewed from below

as I lay in the dirt daydreaming

their shapes like hands

open to catch the rain

but I didn’t know I loved

the space inbetween

that my grandmother urged me to study

if I scrunch my eyes

the leaves fade and the sky takes shape

coming forward like a cartoon

flat and smooth with edges

I can take a bite out of

tasting as buttery and soft as the snickerdoodle

that I stole from the cooling rack

I know I love a celebration

when friends come inside with hugs

and smiles and bottles of wine

stealing private conversation

while everyone is dancing and toasting

but how about the ordinary days

not marked by events or memories

those days that stretch and meander

like a lazy hike to the top of the hill

out of breath and panting

breathing in the aroma

of cow paddies and dead grass

grateful for legs and lungs

and my mountain.