Waking Up at Bob’s

“In the middle of the world, make one positive step. In the center of chaos, make one definitive act. Just write. Say yes, stay alive, be awake. Just write….There is a great sense of autonomy and security to know we can write anyplace. If you want to write, finally you’ll find a way no matter what.” –Natalie Goldberg

I write in anyplace I am. In the same way my body is with me at all times, the writing is also with me. Words forming into lines in my head. I feel the writing life within me, the thoughts that eventually and always lean into the page.

I am outside of Bob’s Java Hut, again. The sun has made its appearance, and is starting to warm my ears. I sip at my americano and I think of the amount of time I have spent writing, of the life I have created living in this writing space.

I am also thinking and dreaming about the feeling of settledness–of sinking into the body, and letting the body be itself, grow into itself. My eyes, the lids still sleeping. Even with the early morning breeze dirting into my ears, caressing the lobes and shifting its way around my shoulders, the eyelids are still believing they are closed, in another space–the space of dreaming.

I have taken the day off of work, given myself the time and space in which to feel I am alive. Breathing into me and motioning my fingers toward making movements of love and compassion. I type and write to heal. I knit to feel settled and bend into the notion of focused. A vague sense of concentration drifts through my body, claiming its space and concept in the cozy home of myself.

The glass ashtray on the white picnic table sits serenly. It is patient and waiting, ready to hold the ash I leave behind–the past parts of me that will eventually swirl into the fall air. The sun continues on its trajectory upwards, forever travelling on its own circular path of home. It welcomes its sense of growth, as it cannot avoid the fact of growing and moving self. It blazes in the joy of being alive. As the sun is always with itself, in itself, practicing its calm and steady zen-like movements, my eyelids, as well, slowly continue their trajectory upwards.

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