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Not sobbing. Just streaming tears.

For my friend, D. 

Arms stretched forward, heels together, and legs reaching the outer edges of my towel, 
I close my eyes, breathing, listening to the sound of my breath, 
paying attention to its cadence, to its depth. 
With each breath, my chest would rise and fill, my spine lifting and releasing. 

My body is alive beneath me - no it's actually vibrating.  
There is just too much stimuli. Too many thoughts. 
Too many things to do. Too many questions. Too many doubts. 
Child's Pose - a total surrender - a total shut down of my nervous system
to cradle it back to life.   

Breath comes in. Breath leaves.  Body lifts, then lowers, lifts, then lowers.  
My chest falls closer to the bathroom floor. 
Knees widening as the weight of my body pushes its way through
this barrier of bones, tissue and muscle,
submitting to the the floor, free falling with each breath. 

The tears start to come. No they are streaming now.  And I am breathing.  
I don't stop them. What's the use? They need to fall.  I need them to fall.  
 They are my body's way of letting go of what's deep inside.
They tell the story of my life,
my wishes, my hopes, my dreams, my fears . . . 

They are the questions that come from a place so deep;
I am ashamed to admit that after all this time, all this work, they are still there.
When will the questions stop?  When the tears do?
Those questions of whether I am good enough. 
The voices that tell me that I am not smart enough
(I am not crazy. You hear voices in your head too.
 You just don't want to admit it.  That's why you are a pompous ass.) 

The tears stream, and my chest heaves and falls with my breath. 
I am not sobbing. Just streaming tears. 

It's been 15 minutes now, I think, 
based on the number of songs that have played on my iPhone.  
And I am still breathing. Still sinking.
Not sobbing.  Just streaming tears.  
Just breathing. Not thinking.  Listening to my breathe. 
Feeling it move in and out of my body.
Not sobbing. Just streaming tears. 

Feeling the contraction of my belly and spine. 
Feeling the wave of this ocean as it passes over me,
washing me to and fro . . . 
thrashing my body
as if it were a feather -
weightless, lifeless, formless . . .

45 minutes now . . . 
my belly now on the floor,
legs wide, toes touching, 
shoulder's square, arms back, hands resting at my heels. 
Resting on the side of my head,
my eyes still closed . . . 
my hips are screaming now, and tears are streaming still - 
I am breathing. I am still here.  
The world has finished turning and I am still here. 
Still alive.
Not sobbing.  Just streaming tears. 

 I carefully place my hands under my shoulders, 
gently pushing myself away from the comfort of the hardwood floor, 
coaxing my knees back inside my body, 
squaring my hips. 
They ache.  (That's the best part.) 

 I open my eyes.  Adjust for reality. The door bell is ringing.  
Dogs are barking. People are yelling my name.  
Life resumes.
Not sobbing. Just streaming tears.  

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50 over 50

These are things I know for sure.
That time is finite
That beauty is subjective
That every day
 both time and beauty
as it was defined mere seconds ago
That life is too short to fade away into the background of time.
That life is too short not to ask for what you want, and expect it.
That life is too short to wait, and wish.
That there is a price to pay, but the time spent wishing is a greater loss.
otherwise I know

The meaning of life.

In my dreams I see people Walking, Going places, Loving, Wondering, Wishing, Dreaming, Being.
In my dreams I hear people Telling stories True stories Of love, Of loss, Of journey, Of celebration Of sadness Of joy . . . .
In my dreams I feel people Wishing for more To live each moment More fully than the last To embrace this life For all of its beauty To love And to be loved
In my dreams I see people Walking Through their lives And with each step Their vision Being realized.
That is my dream. To feel. To live. To be alive.
The meaning of life.  Of my life.

"Changes" Lyric Video - Langhorne Slim & The Law