Separation

I sit here at my computer. Funny, just a few days ago I had so much to write, so much to say. I wanted to pour my heart out to anyone and everyone. I wanted my life to change. I wanted to tell how much my thinking about certain aspects of my life has changed.

Instead, I sat. I sat and looked at a few chipmunks scurry across the porch. I sat and watched two of my kids ride bikes up and down the driveway; one of them on a bike that I rode all over the Farm, ancient even when I was a kid. I remembered coming back from the gravel pit with my cousin so tired and hot that I almost couldn’t function. I sat and watched the fire, the fire that my kids wanted me to start, abandoned after but two minutes.

I slipped into a non-thinking state. I had an earlier case of panic in the days previous, haunted by earlier decisions and actions that I have no power over now. I am still riding the waves of my earlier life, filled with poor choices and some good choices but with elements that I couldn’t control.

Do I want to be here? A life of solitude and separation no longer holds any fascination with me. I find I’m too interested in people. I want to travel. I want to walk and hike and climb that mountain. A life of walking the sands doesn’t grip me anymore. What a change I have experienced.

Do I want to be here? I don’t know.