the still i am in

a girl has got to recover from a day such as today.  the morning warmth was of little comfort as i knew it stood for a hot hot day.  battin’ down the hatches in the morning, shutting the house in to preserve what little sanity we have.  keep the house under 80 and move little.  cook dinner in one’s skivvies, or less.  go outside and nearly reach tears to see that the east winds have knocked your six foot tomatos around like battered souls, down to a sorrowful four feet.  cooing at them softly, scissors in hand, trimming off the dead weight.  feeling the sweat through me and trying to move slowly.  pondering the idea of backyard fire if only it were cool enough.

sitting on the front porch with a cold beer between my knees and words emptying out of these fingers.  nothing to say and everything to feel.  tomorrow morning i’m making my way over to the island then coming home, getting into the minimals, and canning my little heart out.  i feel the stillness of the night and sleep continues to escape me.  the season has sent my breath in many directions, my mind drifting across continents and roads and little dirt paths.  the summer has reminded me of who i am and who i want to be. 

it is an interesting thing when you ask someone, who do you want to be.  what feeds you.  what turns you on in such a way that your face flushes a little and your breath catches as you inhale.  not the crazy schoolgirlish nuttiness, but the way you feel when you lick the lime off your lips as you swallow the drink and the way you felt the night breeze and giggled remembering your younger self, glad you were no longer her but so loving the fact that you had that life, knowing that who you are now is so much better.  it’s that feeling of endless summer yet knowing that you get to wear those great jeans come fall.  it’s that knowing you are never done but always who you need to be at that moment in time.  and it’s looking at your flawed self, your pale skin and full lips and rounded belly and freckled arms and tangled mess of long hair that gets into everything, and knowing that your love and your beauty will radiate even when the exterior doesn’t always match the interior.  you know that everything speaks of whitman when they talk of you – they know that you make others restless, you confront peace and security, you are more resolute…but that you really just want to find that lap to lay your head in, who willl play with your hair and keep you thinking and fix things around the house and want to kiss you til you giggle. 

but now?  sit on the porch, take another sip, be glad that it’s friday and you’ve got your one night all to yourself, your little patch of still that you are in.

“Within you there is a stillness and a sanctuary to which you can retreat at any time and be yourself.”
Hermann Hesse

  One thought on “the still i am in

  1. August 14, 2010 at 10:39 am

    A cold beer and the sun…what more could any sane person want?

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