The debri left by pulling away from being born,
Vision is obscured but yet I am more focused and forgiving.

The little strands of matter in a dehydration dance.

Aging feels like the body is being replaced bit by bit with spirit.
With each ache and pain you can almost feel the invisible cord to God. 

Failings, fears, frustration, sadness, hints of regrets
and
more wisdom, questions, acceptance, 

Living with that ever-present feeling of never being able to catch up with the work –  writing, organizing, cleaning, cooking, gardening, meditating, exercising, talking, giving, counting, documenting, making – before it’s too late.

But it also feels like I’m heading somewhere. Not swimming upstream quite as much, but giving in to the hints – a toad’s croak pulls me towards it, the flowering weed demands to stake a claim in the yard, the unexpected moment of teen connection, the new pants that actually fit.

I still want. 

I want to be appreciated, seen, held, loved.
I want others to care
     About others
     About the planet
     About love and science.

In my own mind my eyes are big cartoon bug eyes upon which I overly depend. 

And my feet too. Big heavy Dr Marten tree roots that hold me up, move me around, even climb mountains. 

As it all weakens, and the pulling away begins to pull me down, and the floaters, and the challenges, move along with my view, I’ll need to find other things to hold me up. 

Like dancing, and giving in to whispers of ice cream, and hammock naps, and the freedom to be curt, honest, and demanding.

They say it’s a natural part of aging.

#nitaswords

July 7, 2021