Equilibrium returns slowly at a snail’s pace, that feeling of wholeness, OK-ness— centeredness out of reach, floundering for shore, a safe place and feeling safe only craved for not found. Days pass and a moment of noticing a thing of beauty occurs, like the glittery bits in the new stone for the garden path, and hope flutters like a sparkle of sun then passes. It takes time to recover from a simple eye exam.
Simple for others. I had to medicate myself in order to be in a closed, windowless room with a technician then the doctor. Each took their turn putting the mammoth glaring machines up against my eyes which also means another human only an a few inches from my face and body. The room is darkened. I want to remain calm and seem like a normal person not the crazy mixed up one I feel like inside.
So I pity myself, something I hate to do yet the exhaustion of the appointment and bringing that terror up from the recesses of my gut out through my mouth in a coherent way to explain my surgical needs took everything. It has taken four days of directing my body to perform needed household tasks, even making jam, but something was off, where is the joy? Separating from the terror meant separating from myself. I’m a robot.
Today the pieces are joining. Wisps of daisies dance with buttercups in the meadow taking me to a place of peace and beauty. Wisteria hanging in grape-like clusters a few feet away float an exotic aroma through the kitchen window, its floral wafting a caress. Mowers heard in the background add to the mix of heady scents with the sweet smell of fresh cut grass.
Molly stretches in the sun on the porch, her white belly full from breakfast, glorious in fluffy white. She too radiates with the coming summer and all its untold, mysterious splendors…