The Pause

Sometimes, the days fly by. It is like I'm running a race with no chance to rest, and I'm unable to look back to see how far I've come. No time to collect my thoughts, reflect, or process. It just is.

I think I feel least myself on those days. In those days, I feel unconscious. I am not present. I have tunnel vision. I am operating, I am surviving, I become a machine. I am not thriving. I am not vital. I look back and its a blur.

What happens though- when I am stressfully making tahini for 25 people, thinking to myself how cold it is going to be when the sun goes down, willing the Vitamix (that's on its last leg) to hurry up and also not to decide to stop working in this moment. Ooo that would suck. Why am I making this tahini? Well, I want tahini. Why am I making it now? I don't really know, I guess I had time. Oh? You had time? You've been running around all day, all yesterday too. And the day after that! When are you actually going to sit on the porch and play the guitar, rather than just daydream about it? When are you going to enjoy your cup of tea, rather than lug it around, and feel like drinking it is another thing 'to-do'. Why aren't these seeds smoothing faster! I want to get to my guitar. The shadows are longer now.... Wow, the way the light streams through the slats in this kitchen is breathtaking. The cook crew sounds like they are having a good time. Laughing, dancing. I love the song that just played. When is the last time I really looked at my hands? They are so wethered looking now. Dry. I got a few more burns and cuts. Oh. I love my hands. But, it does not look like it. I want to really love my hands. I want to love making tahini too! Wow. I do love making tahini. But not in this moment for some reason.

One day I am going to sit on the porch and play my guitar, but for now, I'm going to love making tahini. So, please. Come interrupt my profound thoughts with the questions I already told you the answers to. I wish to be entertained!

This show- it is. And the way it be- is beautiful. Have you ever seen this show? My hands move like they themselves feel the buttons on the blender and think about how the mason lid smells. The light plays with the shadows and spins the dust particles around the waves the speaker emits. If I listen to my words, I can taste my mouth. My movement feels like mine in this moment. Not prompted, not anticipated, not responsive. It is just me, moving. Being. I take smaller steps because I want to credit my rhythm. I want to let the voices of the ones I love dance in every crevice of my exposed skin. I do not want to think about the next thing I 'should' do. Because why should I? I know I will do it- because I want to. But, I will do it when I feel it. This is the way I like to be- in a flow state.

In the space where I realize I get to choose my move; how I wish to be- that is where I am authentically myself. I always hope to catch these moments more often, as I play with others in this life-long game.

This is why I do not have a plan right now. I am sitting here, in my one-room apartment, writing this because I felt inspired. I am not a writer, but I like to think everyone has their own writings- phonetic or not. For the first time since I was 14, I do not have a job. My blood is far from me. I am finding my family here, in this environment I have found a home in. I have never had a space that was completely my own, but now I do. What am I going to do? I do not entirely know. I wonder, but I do not know the future. I really do wonder what will happen... all I know is; whatever becomes will be entirely meant for me.

I just am. Here.