Connecting

I've been reading in Sabrina Ward Harrison's Brave on the Rocks. She writes in the corner of a page about a "big moon walk with Dad." Something in my stomach lunged forward--that inner palm again stretching for a moment like that.

I wish I could revel in sharing a "moon walk" with just myself like I used to. I used to be so good at feeling great on my own. Lately, I'm tired of not having some intimate someone to feel the big magic world stuff with--the stars, the winter trees weighted, the unkempt lawns, the bundling and savoring of the cool beach.

I feel so connected to these images, the sharing, that I almost feel like I miss them.

I've started listening to Patty Griffin for the first time in a long long time and I forgot how much her songs moved me to feel really deep things. It's nice. By going deeper, I feel like I'm connecting with a part of myself I have left behind lately while I've been rushing around, doing and going nonstop.

Maybe it's the lack of sleep and the caffeine wearing off that's suddenly settling me into this calm introspective state. I feel like painting. I feel like a nap. Too bad there's no sun. I'd like to take an afternoon nap with the sun laying a soft hand through my window, across my bed.



I miss the summer months.