Despite the good times, I can also recall the many moments where he was ill at ease in his skin. Sagging rings under his eyes, too thin and pale. Scratching so hard to get to the surface. Lying to himself that the bottom wasn’t so bad. Pretending the loneliness was romantic and the angst turned rage just another head of the muse.
But not today. Not this now. Everything seems to be swimming in flow. The ebbs surmountable. Even enjoyable. It feels as if everything up to now has been a direct path to this moment in time. A moment where the direction is clear--it is all just a spiraling circle. I realize now that life is not linear and there really is no destination. We wake up every morning and try to maintain the high. Not in the form of escape or even enhancement, but rather a clear awareness of reality as it is.
I used to think that everything in life could be better if I had one more drink, ran a little faster, was a little more adventurous. Life doesn’t need to be any better than it always is. A warm safe bed. A gentle breeze. The hot sun. A budding sense of humor. Her scowl as she becomes a person. A soft tune. Rubbing her back as we escape in fiction for a brief moment each night. A carefully crafted paragraph of prose. Satisfaction from work. A teachable moment. A lesson learned.