spin around with me
“keep looking at the bandaged place. that’s where the light enters you.” ~ rumi
river’s upside down on the kitchen floor. “can you feel the whole world spinning?” yes, i think i can. somedays moreso than others. today it’s so beautiful it makes me cry. because i’m happy, because i don’t know why. i used to be amazed that any of us are upright at all, walking around talking and breathing. that was when i was floored mostly, when gravity was too much and pinned me flat on my back in that bullish way gravity has about itself. now i’m more amazed that we aren’t just floating off with the breeze, catching onto lamp posts to keep us grounded… smiles wide and our feet in the clouds.
“spin around with me!” he chants it with feet propped up on the fridge, head down in some strategic yoga pose.
it’s evening and i’m walking behind him as he does his hurky-lurky bike pedaling. i’m all grins and laughter because it’s just that funny, and life is just that good with glints of sunset in the distance and the fireflies just starting to reveal themselves. i’m laughing because this is what it is, life in slow motion jerking along at an awkward pace.
he sees us and rolls down his window, some stranger witnessing our scene. he waits for us to come closer. we get within earshot… the man points at me and calls out his window, ‘you are happy’ he says. a simple statement. ‘yes, i am’ i say in return. and he rolls up his window and drives off.
it must have been just that important to say it outloud.
it is something to be seen. just as much as the sadness was something to be felt. it’s a beautiful balance. a place i’ve just recently come to. where people are new in my life and genuinely interested in my story. silence sits with smiles on the couch, waiting for my words to fill the space. ‘who did you used to be?’ i’m finding that i’m finally at the place where i can share what used to be, it’s just like telling a story without judgment, one i know by heart. it’s part my story, part his story, for he will always be a part of me. our stories will always intersect. i am not bitter. i am not angry. i am not sad. i just am. it is what it is. and it’s giving me new eyes on the past and sorting out the beautiful, the amazing.
it’s june gloom in southern california. it’s the breeze and the scent of jasmine wafting over the rooftops down on Mulholland. it’s sleeping on a concrete slab, living on the jobsite. it’s good times. it’s swimming in skivvies in the fanciest pool ever after a full day of wiring a rooftop of solar panels.
it is what is light and what is dark. there cannot be one without the other.
my heart feels tender for this person i knew so well, although he’s someone i don’t always understand. a person in my life for a decade and a half yet always somewhat invisible, cloaked in feigned busyness. i wonder what the fear is. i wonder. but it doesn’t consume me as it used to.
and for that i feel lighter.
gravity has no hold on me.