The warmth of my mug has become a game of hot potato between my hands. They’re cold till they’re burning. Till they’re cold…
Somewhere in there, they’re just right. So it’s worth the effort as I look through the kitchen window and stare up at the light. It’s trickling in between the leaves of the rhodedendron.
When I come to note it down, I sit and cower over the keyboard for a while before I begin writing. Seeing myself – a turtleshell on my back with all the weight I carry within all my feeling, in a reflection, I smile and sit up straight like a schoolgirl.
I see that immediate straightening in the mirror, too. It’s hilarious.
I see my weathered, early-morning face all too clearly – the face we all feel we have first thing in the morning.
It’s ever more ridiculous with the ponytail in my hair, and I snort a laugh at my own stupidity. I mock myself with a little bob of the head and grab my coffee to warm my fingers again. I need to savor that frivolity for another moment.
I take down my hair to warm my ears and wriggle my knees like a butterfly… my tippy toes perched together. I slow myself to remember my own balance.
I think scientifically about what constitutes ‘core strength’ and if that’s what I’m feeling within my own body. To anyone else it’s just plain vanity. To me, it’s something else. A remembering.
There’s been a change.
Yet, it’s actually more of a coming home. It’s the schoolgirl with her lessons learnt, as Mamaw would say.
I think again of the rhododendron… The underbellies of dark, veiny leaves making the sunlight glisten just so.
I laugh when I remember something a friend shared about astigmatism. It’s been my bad eyes making everything so dreamy all the time! How did I not see it?
No one is awake, so I have to enjoy my chuckles internally. They’re layered. Not everyone enjoys them as deeply as I do, but I’m not here for your entertainment anymore. I’m here for mine.
Then, I toss my head back and let my hair tickle the spot between my shoulder blades as I snort. I’m Jabba the Hut. On silent mode. I let the schoolgirl’s helicopter arms out and stretch. I feel myself taking in the morning and releasing the night.
Just now, footsteps above me squeak and crack the floorboards.
It begins.