Space

So much to say....and I can't gather the energy to write it.

Two nights in a row, two hours of sleep. River has night terrors and won't let go, won't put her head down to rest. Up and down, up and down, through the dark hours, I'm awake. Sun up, running through the house, running through daylight hours, packing, cleaning, preparing. Every room echoes now.

The writing and the desire to write is in a box somewhere, did I pack it by mistake?

Yesterday I took myself to lunch and scribbled on an ATM receipt, covered all the empty space with notes about Sanskrit and meditation and existential loneliness and marriage and mothering and beauty and silence and renewal. It's in my wallet.

I drove around this morning. Just drove around. I'm sitting here now, just sitting. So tired or still or empty or numb from all the activity that breathing is effortless. After a long climb, free space.

At this point......I just want to shop. But my closet is empty so there's nowhere to put anything new. Isn't that cool?