nothing much

When I have been away from movement for a long time, I come back. I lie on the floor and address my body with attempted kindness, curiosity and ever-present attention to breath. I return and try to allow myself to do so. I go away, I come back into view. And so it is with writing. All along, the brain spins. But I've been neglecting the catching, the shaping, the sharing. I come back. I sit at the table and address my words with attempted kindness, curiosity and ever-present attention to breath. I remember Natalie Goldberg and Writing Down the Bones. I heed her advice on cutting through resistance and judgement and fanfare. I write quickly, three drafts. Here is what happened this morning.

"nothing much"

An everyday day dawns
In the middle of a long stretch with little variation.
The morning progresses.
I put on glasses and grungy pants.
I take the dog for a walk.
Snow spritzes the ground, a nice touch.
The dog looks at me, I look at her.
At home, in the kitchen, I brush her.
She stretches out for a long belly scratch before breakfast.
I make coffee, a pair of smoothies.
Afterward, I fill the blender
With warm water, some lavender soap, and watch it spin on high.
On a cold day, today, I pull off the lid
And steam rises elegantly from the frothy, soapy milkshake.
I gaze out the window into winter.
A decorative plastic heron perches in the yard across the street, always.
He almost catches me off-guard.
He's in my line of sight so much, he's real.
I clean an everyday clean.
Hot water, rubber gloves.
Apple, pear and ginger peels get pushed down the drain.
The faucet runs down as I flick on the disposal.
It groans and grunts, metal against metal,
choking, whirring, threatening to end it all.
It doesn't.
Flick off and silence.
My husband works soundlessly in the other room.
The everyday breaks.
The distinct scent of raw ginger rises like a phoenix from the drain.
A fresh "hello."
A remembrance, an afterthought.
A parenthetical "hallelujah."
A pause, a split-second.
"Keep going."
A brief "yes" to what is.