{ a true weekend }

things become too much.

i disappear.

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i had what i call a true weekend: absolutely zero commitments to anyone or anything. it wasn't necessarily by design; i had plans on friday that fell through and plans on sunday that i canceled. i didn't realize how restorative the empty days were until sunday evening came and i couldn't fall asleep until after midnight. it seems i'd gotten so much space back to myself that i couldn't settle down, and for once it didn't bother me at all.

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friday after work i went shopping. i bought myself a shirt with the tiniest pleats and the easiest silhouette --- the perfect thing to hide in, in plain sight. people are always stopping me to comment on my appearance. i don't say this to be arrogant, because they don't stop me to tell me i'm beautiful. they stop me to stare at my dress or my ring or my scarf. they ask me where i get my hair cut. they tell me they love my nail polish. it makes me smile to myself --- they see everything about me, but me.

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my roommate must've come and gone at least a dozen times this weekend, meeting this person or that person, going running, going golfing, going to a concert, going to breakfast. i was like the stationary planet holding fast while she rotated frantically around me. she must think i'm the most isolated eccentric character in the world. she kept asking, "so what are you up to today?" and i'd rattle off a few normal-sounding things to keep her comfortable. i'm paying my bills. going through my mail. i may go out later. the truth is, it took me almost a full two days to feel...right again.

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saturday i woke up at 5am. i tried to trick myself into falling back asleep until 7. finally i found the edge of slumber and didn't move for three hours. magical really, this complete loss of self...no stimulus, no response or processing required, just the weightless, silent dark.

eventually i stirred and took a book outside. i sweltered as long as i could stand it. i came back inside delirious with the heat and with tan lines on my legs. i laid on the floor in the late afternoon quiet with messy hair and a new dog friend, left at the house by my over-scheduled roommate and her comrades. the dog licked my temple and put her paws on my shoulders. we slept.

i stood in the dark under a cold shower for half an hour. i sang a little and bent my head beneath the rain. everything slowed down a bit more. all sense of time and hurry had left my bones. i was pre-world, prehistoric, just an impulse blinking through the atmosphere. eventually i laughed at myself --- who else but me could make a shower such an epic, existential event?

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sunday was spent slicing strawberries, tomatoes, peaches, mozzarella.
i might've listened to some music or read some poetry.
i wrote letters. i spent hours preparing a package for a friend.
i nibbled bread and green grapes. i wandered the market with an iced coffee.
i wore a purple dress and let my hair be wild.
i ached not from the past and worried not for the future.
i simply, was.

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it's such a rare thing for me to be present to a moment, and to feel all is sufficient in that moment. i stumbled upon this like a diamond in the desert, and i hold it with both hands. today's sun is glinting off of it, sending spears of light in every direction. i imagine someone on the distant horizon, tracking my progress across the sands. he shields his eyes against the glare, wondering what unbelievable message i might bring. i know someone is waiting, and i know what i have to give is important, tremendous, life-changing --- but i am in no hurry. for now this beauty is mine alone to carry.