Tonight I took the time to sit under the moon in my chair, a ritual that I lost over the winter.
Shortly after I lay down I got shaky – physically and emotionally – and it was suddenly a year ago and I was in my chair, on the Ranch, trying to continue breathing while I dealt with my devastation.
Then I thought, “In a couple of weeks it will be a year.”
A year.
I can’t say whether this year has gone fast or achingly slow; it’s been both.
The hours I spent under the Ranch cottonwood tree staring at the same mountains in my view tonight, just from a different angle.
I mentally sifted and sorted. I cried, I had a few moments of relief. There was too much noise in my daily life – my chair was the only place where I found some peace.
Prior to the breakup, as things fell apart, I had trouble sleeping. As things got worse, I barely slept at all. And when I did catch a wink of sleep, it was in my chair wrapped in a quilt under the stars.
Tonight while half my brain said this is good for the soul, the other half wanted to run inside.
But I stayed. I flitted in and out of sadness and solidity – memory and the present.
Such sorrow for having had to have gone through this.
And yet, I feel my strength too. I didn’t lie out there feeling morose for the entire time.
It’s beautiful and spiritual and utterly fascinating.
It is good for the soul.
song dog sally 