November 30th, 2015

I don’t often have Sunday mornings off, it isn’t in the job description. Yesterday was one of those rare Sunday mornings that I wasn’t at work and I spent it in my favorite place, my family place in Ft. Lauderdale. I sat on the back steps drinking a cup of tea, without the sounds made by my fellow humans, only the sounds of water lapping at the dock, the rather enthusiastic wind blowing across the Inland Waterway ruffling the palm trees and fish jumping to escape underwater predators. The sun warmed my skin in a way that melts stress and liquifies my muscles. Now, more than 24 hours later the thought of that time calms my soul in a way that I find little else does. I simply existed in the moment. I was for a time, a human being.

I won’t pretend that I can replicate this feeling on a Sunday morning at work. I don’t find that I can replicate this feeling of peace without closing my eyes and settling my mind to visualize this place here. It is one of my calming tricks when I am anxious, or feeling unsafe. I know I will only hold on to a fraction of this feeling once I leave for the airport, too many people, in close quarters impinging on my personal space and being. I will once again remind myself to drop my shoulders as I feel the tension rise in my body. Thoughts and reminders will enter my brain and edge out the space reserved for this feeling of peace. I will play tricks with myself and wrestle with my disturbing need to imagine a future to be anxious about. I could wax philosophical and pretend that I am going to hold this feeling and work towards feeling at peace when I return to LA but this morning I cannot lie to myself. I am still living the other lie, the one in which I clearly believe that I cannot live with more peace in my own body. The one where I won’t be as important, as useful, as needed if I am not stressed. Where I am not effectively doing my job if I do not pile on myself. 
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There should be learning from this but today there is only reflection, and a glimmer of hope, that by reflecting I am gaining some wisdom. Then again maybe it is confirming that my call is really to be a hermit and live separated from humans in general. As my sister pointed out, on Thanksgiving, after my mother questioned whether I was growing my hair out like Rapunzel “Somehow I think if Missy is alone at the top of a tower it is because she wants to be there.”