*These were some words that fell off my fingertips a couple of weeks ago. I’d responded to a prompt: “In the last light of January…”. The words popped up again tonight. I wanted to remember them so I am putting them here. That’s how I do things sometimes.
In the last light of January it was cold and rainy. The light was muffled, nearly rubbed out by the clouds, by the gray and white clouds, almost more like a shadow than a light.
In the last light of January, I paused to say good bye to January. I stood at the window, looking over the light rain as it hit the street. I watched the trees tilt in the windy gusts and the water drops leap off the street and into the gutter. There was a siren peeling through the town, over there on Bodega Ave, out of my view but not out of my concern. May God be with you.
In the last light of January, I wondered if it would the last January I would know in this life. I can feel the years tugging at my bones. I ache when I move around, attempting to engage and be engaged by a two year old. I shake my head when I remember that I used to be the college kid who ran all those miles, who never felt an ache that she couldn’t dismiss. I can feel the weight of choices made, good or bad. My brain is splintering as I wonder how this all came to pass and just where am I going next? The last light of January starts to feel like an opening, an opportunity. Because I know how daylight works, I know that the last light of January is a prelude to longer days. The sun’s presence in the sky pushes the last light of January to expand into more light. Maybe I can expand too?
In the last light of January, I am briefly alone. The young one has gone and the old one has not yet come in from his shop. I am briefly alone but really I am always alone. I can’t forget that. I can breathe in and focus on that breath entering my body and settling in. I can keep my attention on the breath as it exits my body. I can be only in this moment. Alive, alone, and curious.
It is as though you were inside my head… taking my thoughts and writing them down with cloud vapor. Just there for a second and then on to the next. If only breathing in and breathing out could drain all the jagged lightning bolts that surprise and shatter curious moments.
I will turn my head inside out so our thoughts can lift like the fog…. My thought boutique is closed . Onward to just being here now. 🙏🏻💕👏🏻
Ah, yes. and curious.