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March 30, 2007
Untitled
"A woman in harmony with her spirit is like a river flowing, she goes where she will without pretense and arrives at her destination prepared to be herself and only herself." Maya Angelou
Evening has set in, the sun is gone, as well as the sounds of happy neighbor children, for tonight. My patio calls to me, the neighbor cat disappears around the corner at the sound of my battered screen door opening. There is so much work here waiting to be done, the yard needs mowing badly, flower pots filled with long dead plants dampen inspiration, the ceiling of my patio is in need of painting. I promise myself I will get to it someday, but it is dark now and work is easily forgotten. I fight the wind over whether I will have candle light tonight, I light them when it is calm and then it picks up to quickly extinguish them, determined to win I retrieve more sheltered candles from inside.
The light spring blanket wrapped around me is not enough for this wind, I find a sweater and return, bringing the power cord for my computer. I haven't blogged from my patio yet, but it's been on the "to-do" list ever since I went wireless. Tonight must be the night. A friend from work sends a text message, worried because I didn't return his latest with a smart@$$ comment, wondering if I'm sick. "Sidetracked" I tell him, "I'm blogging", and I reference an imaginary sign which reads "do not disturb the blogger, she's disturbed enough already". He lives in a world with no computers and knows nothing of blogging, I'm not going to destroy his innocence.
My mind wanders, seems I'm having a harder and harder time keeping it on task these days. One minute it is here with me and the next it's half a world away. So many thoughts begging for my attention. The wind picks up and I hug my blanket closer, watching a candle as it struggles for life. Occasionally the sound of another voice drifts through the night air, if it weren't for these reminders I'd forget there was anyone in the world besides me.
These words to "Unwritten" by Natasha Bedingfield have been on my mind the last few days.
"Feel the rain on your skin
No one else can feel it for you
Only you can let it in
No one else, no one else
Can speak the words on your lips
Drench yourself in words unspoken
Live your life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins
The rest is still unwritten"
Sometimes I wonder if this is really my life, or if I'm living someone else's life, it hardly seems real. I never expected to be where I am, I'm not quite sure how I got here. I ask, am I really here and where am I going? When I get there will it seem right or will it feel sureal as well? Most of the time I think I'm just making it up as I go, like playing a game, one with no rules, where I win, but only because I can't possibly loose. I wonder if everyone else feels the same, maybe I'm more normal than I give myself credit for.
Posted by Anna at March 30, 2007 7:34 PM