Sunday, October 12, 2008

The Pensieve Effect

It's 5 in the morning and I find myself wide stinking awake with a mind so full of thoughts that I'm surprised Kevin didn't reach over and tell me to keep it down. Oh wait, I'm not surprised by that. The lad sleeps like a log. Ah well, trust me on this. It was loud. But it's starting to calm a bit now that I've started typing. Aaah.

I understand how Dumbledore might have felt if he was to awaken in the wee hours with a head full of thoughts and memories and needed a place to put them for safe keeping and sound sleeping. Alas, I have found my pensieve and you are all my Harry Potters. Ew, does that sound weird? A little perhaps, but those of you who know me and the books know what I mean :-)

I had a really good day today (or yesterday I should say). I got an invite from a friend to spend the afternoon at her house outside of the city, an invite which I gladly accepted. I dared to venture outside of my 5 mile radius that has become my comfort zone. I traveled down highways and winding country roads, to a place where I could breathe. Like really breathe. The kind of breathing that only fresh air and tall trees can provide. So fresh that it almost made me dizzy. So fresh that I found myself automatically meditating, focusing on the inhales and exhales, as if I could actually see the air as it entered in through my nose, and exited out through my mouth.

Inhale, the smell of fall. Exhale, the politics of politics. Inhale, the smell the of fresh pine as it reaches all the way to my finger tips where it actually tingles. Exhale, the work that has become my work of late. Inhale the smell of burning wood (hopefully in a fire place or pit), exhale the weight of the death that is hovering around someone very dear to me. I inhaled the majestic fall colors that never cease to leave me awe-struck and humbled. And then, I exhaled. And it was good.
I clung fast to my nature buzz as I drove back to 'the city', and even managed to miss my exit from all the buzzing that was slowly fading to a hum. The humming continued through a side splitting dinner with Kevin (when we are old and have lost our looks, it will not be the age that breaks my brittle bones, but laughter. Of that I am sure.) and snuggling on the couch. I even clung to it as it began to flicker with the onset of sleep. And suddenly, I was awake, and it was 5 in the morning. And when I awoke there was no more buzzing, let alone humming. There were glimpses of a dream that I was trying to forget, and then all the noise -all the brain pollution - came flooding back tsunami-style. Ugh. Which brings us to the here and now.

Wow, I feel better and I make no apologies for the early morning rambling. But the volume has begun to fade as I focus on the words as they appear on the screen. I focus on the fall colors in my head. The smell of fresh pine. I remember my breathing. And I return to sleep. Good night.


Justin said...

Isn't it weird/amazing that intrinsically we're soothed by nature and when immersed into it, it has that kind of effect.

Being also a resident of the concrete jungle, sometimes it's so nice to smell a bonfire in the distance, to hear bugs and birds, and to feel absolutely nothing moving past you in a rush.

Ps: If you ever want to go take a walk or something, like a long one of a day or go hike or some crazy stuff, let me know. Sounds like fun!

Anonymous said...

Hi, Nic...finally read your blog and I very much enjoyed it. I wish I could be there with you, exhaling some of the toxic fumes that suffocate us.

I love to hear about you and Kev. I am so glad he makes you happy, and vice versa.

Paige said...

that was me.

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