love

it's such a complicated word. idea. many people have many different ideas of what it means. who has the right answer. is there a right answer.

i sat by the river tonight, who was not as quiet as yesterday, it had a lot to say. and as i drove there, i could hear something that sounded like wisdom. i don't know if you hear things the way i do, or if it is peculiar to me.

there comes a point where i can no longer tell you i love you. i cannot convince you if i try. i can only let you find it in your heart, your mind, your soul, that i love you. believe that love.

now this thought led to another,

then, when you believe it, trust it, my love, that is, i am free again to say it.

what does all that mean. of course i am not entirely sure, but i've no need for certainty before i believe a thing to be true. it is a lot like life that way.

meanwhile, in the background, one of my all time favorite movies, out of africa is playing. now there is another model of love. something that intrigues me.

i want to stop myself from writing now because i feel a poem coming on. i don't write poems here. but it is, again, consciously subconscious.

the river then, darkening as the sun set. the cat i call greggy walked with me to the river and instead of keeping her distance, she rubbed up against me as i dangled my feet in the water, i took her in my arms a couple times but she's never been the cuddling type. she finally sprawled out on a large boulder beside me and meowed. this time, only once or twice. last time she accompanied me, she meowed in time the entire length of my stay there. it was painful. but she's braver now. trusting more perhaps.

and i could see the breeze rustling through the leaves. a calm and quiet was beginning to settle into the dusk. the heat had finally let up. and the warm rocks offset the coolness of the river. when i pulled my feet out and sat embracing my knees like they do in pictures of aboriginals in foreign countries, everything felt right. felt good.

i have trust.

i believe that the next door to open will be the one i need to walk through, and it will open at the moment it is to open. until that moment, i must stay in the present and tend to what has need of me.

i cleaned my apartment today, how the energy changes when neglect is swept away, and haste has been set in order. started the day at the laundromat and then hid out from the unbearable heat outside. i took a nap and retrieved my child from the bus stop. then arranged the things that i've been overlooking. all this to the soothing sounds of favorite movies playing in the background.

i have spent a lot of time in silence of late. i keep the ringer on my phone off as much as possible, and only look when i want to, i was beginning to feel a lot like pavlov's dog and had to break that habit.

tonight in yoga i did a full shoulder stand. it was lovely. sophie said

next week we'll do headstands,

and i laughed. she said,

really.

i probably laughed last week when she said we'd do shoulder stands. it's amazing how when you take it slow and in steps the poses seem to reveal themselves.

i stepped out of a few balance poses and, well, i just tried to get back into them, no worries. it happens. i think it's more about trying than about perfection. there is no perfection anyway.

i'm ready for bed. tired of body, peaceful of mind.

tell me a story,

she said.

and there's my poem again, rearing its head. i will sleep on it and let it come from the halfshell, fully formed.