I was staring down the tunnel and feeling the intensity of the position I was in. I was looking into the darkness and feeling fear bubble up in every cell of my body. It would be easy for me to say that the fear was outside of me, but I understood that the fear was mine to own.

I was walking around the house doing chores and she was chasing after me. Every couple of seconds, she would yowl for attention. I stopped and patted her and then went back to my chores. She continued to chase me, screaming for attention. Whenever I would stop, she would tap on my legs, and I would reach down and pat her, but it didn’t seem to be enough.

And this, my friend, is what I love about a weekend morning. The majority of my week is very structured and while I thrive in that structure I also love to allow the part of me who can’t stay on task to express herself.

I was sitting in bed journaling on a Sunday morning. The September wind was blowing and the air was crisp and cool. My windows were open and I could hear the wind chimes dancing in the wind and providing a mesmerizing twinkle to offset the rush of the wind gusts.

He was lying on the reiki table where I was demonstrating the concept and technique. He had started the camera recording but I knew that he would have to edit out the transition as we were setting up. I leaned forward and pressed my breast against his head and face and then laughed like crazy.

They didn’t need other people to accept this aspect of them, they simply needed to accept this aspect of themselves. The inability to belong in community was driven by an inability to belong inside of themselves. I watched the moment that they allowed belonging inside of themselves, and it felt like I was watching it in slow motion, almost as if time had slowed down just so that I got to soak up every second of witnessing this individual in their process. 

“I mean, I am not going to sit here and tell you what to do because it is your life, but I can offer you a different lens to look through if you would like,” I said with no attachment to whether he liked what he saw through the lens that I was holding.

Before my eyes had even opened for the morning I could feel intrusive thoughts rushing towards me. All of the things that needed to get accomplished before my son’s soccer game began to rattle through my mind.

There were moments where the boys were giggling like small children and then moments where they were competitive and masculine like men. I watched them switch easily and quickly between strategy on the laser tag field and giggles when they had been shot by another boy.

Each night when I climb into bed, I brush the dirt from my feet before I slide between the clean sheets. There is something magickal for me about sleeping in clean sheets, it is one of the small things that I enjoy so deeply.