21.5.800 Day Three
I just finished doing the dishes, again, and I was certain that I was coming to the keyboard this morning with something vital to say about life, yoga, and my pursuit of happiness. But it escaped me somewhere between washing out the blender pieces and tossing a heavy wool blanket over my lap. I even closed the kitchen window this morning the hot dishwater did nothing to keep a chill off my arms.
Happiness is a white-peach from Farmer Q’s blended with banana, and raspberry yogurt made with coconut milk. I am realizing youthful co-workers do not understand phrases and references I make. But you remember, don’t you? Happiness is a Warm Puppy. Charles M. Schultz and the Peanuts.
Last night at work, I sang old commercial jingles to pass thru the “loudness of the night.”
Today I am thinking of Linus and his blanket. Cold. Gray Day. No Rain, just overcast skies and a cold breeze thru the little kitchen window above the sink where the amethyst and quartz crystal sit in a bowl of water between fern and aloe.
This window centers me. As does the view of the crabapple tree with maroon leaves that blooms hot pink that has waxy dried up fruit for the birds when they return early spring and the snows of the Upper Peninsula still shock us all. Nourishment. This happiness at the sink. This happiness under blanket at keyboard on sofa. Happiness of home.
It is true that the promise of a weekend spurs me on thru the workweek. The nights away from Mike are hard and I am not home to nurture him with vegetables roasted on cold evenings. I know he pushes himself too hard and eats too late.
So today, I am thinking about nourishment and nurture.
Red and gold new potatoes tossed with onion, garlic, parsley and olive oil baked in a glass casserole dish. Some for me. Some for Mike. I dream this up while washing dishes. Clean counter. Get rid of clutter. Make the space a reason to smile as you come home to an empty house after a long day.
Happiness is a clean counter and no dishes.
Happiness is roasted veggies.
Happiness is a long slow stretch and a foot massage with oils.
I remember evenings with the news. Listening to Mike’s day massaging his feet with oils. It is clear I am missing him. I come home from work needing to sleep but he is next to me in bed and I want to visit. I want to dream with him in awake mode. I want to go for a long walk under starlight on a beach and learn to take night photos. The last thing I want to do is sleep. But I must sleep.
I am healing. I am nourishing my body.
They tell me I have Celiac Disease. Damage to the small intestine kept much needed nourishment from my body. I no longer ingest gluten, corn, dairy/casein, oats or egg. I avoid soy.
I am beginning to absorb iron into my body. My blood will be more oxygenated. I will have more energy. I will heal faster and faster.
Happiness is ample iron stores in my body.
Happiness is raising vitamin D levels.
Happiness is a healing small intestine.
Let’s not talk about the fears today. No worries. No anxieties.
Today will be a day for OM.
A day in the studio with crayons and pencils lined up in glass vases. A day with begonias and palm. A day with Traditional Chinese Medicine posters and books. These are some items in my studio. Art. Healing. Growth.
Happiness is 30 plus houseplants.
Happiness is sheets on the massage table in retro prints and fuchsia hearts.
I am healing. I will be able to offer the same.
To me happiness is healing.
Stretch and open.
The kitchen window does not have to be open for me to receive the healing vision of the centering crab tree that blooms pink.
I hear a Starling as I type this and the cat who wants to be a lion is nowhere to be seen, now.
The roses are wild and pink. And there is magic beyond the thorns. In the garden there is always magic. Wonder. Growing. Worms. A Black and White Cat who crouches low to the ground and is ready…
Word Count: 743, unedited.
For information on 21.5.800 – 21 days of writing 800 words a day and doing yoga 5 days a week, click here.