Sometimes I feel like the ground beneath me is moving. Just hurtling by, plunging forward in utter abandon, at an accelerated speed I have never known. And I am screeching at the heels, trembling in terror, every living cell in me refusing to move with it. My skull plummets to the back of my head, fingers become numb. Mouth dry, eyes soaked, head dizzy.
And I am lost.
Lost in my own skin.
Lost in my own breath.
Lost in everything I once knew to Be.
Yet here I stand swirling around in invisible chaos. Striving to know what’s real and what’s not. What's tangible or illusional. What's relevant or a waste of my time. Which emotions do I believe, depend on? Which ones do I choose to ignore and turn my back on the wind of frailty? So desperately I wish that life was as simple as coloring Barbie on my front porch, just dreaming of a meadow.
A green meadow.
With so much space.
So much life.
Just a meadow.
How I long for my mind and my heart to be like that meadow where nothing can interrupt its peace. Nothing can disturb its tranquility.
Longing for the meadow today.