It’s 6:10am. I don’t usually rise this early. This morning felt different, however. I had an urge to get up and write. Through my shaded window I can see the sky turning from a deep dark blue to a light pale blue. The sun is somewhere below the horizon, slowly making its ascension into visibility. I am trying to remain alert to all I’m feeling. I need to write it down so I can remember it. I need to remember that which we take for granted.
My stomach. There is a mild ache. Probably thirst, or hunger. Maybe a touch of gas. I don’t know yet. But I am aware of my body and its morning chatter. A slight shoulder ache. My fingers typing on my MacBook Pro keyboard. It sounds different from a typewriter. Less effort. On my old antique Royal typewriter, the keys must be depressed more firmly so the ink makes a proper impression on the paper. The tap is louder, with each letter sounding like haphazard Morse code. But there is something about typing on a typewriter, something Earthy and natural, just a step above the primitive. My stomach again. It aches. It needs water. The pause to go to the kitchen to pour water to drink. Cannot make it though. The feeling of water in my bladder. The pre-pause to stop at the bathroom. The light. Too bright. The flush of the toilet. The sink water sounding like a narrow stream running into its future. I look in the mirror. The day before I put my hair up in a crazy way. Little rubber bands wrapped around a bunch of twists. Thinking I look crazy. My face. The age is coming. Slowly, but it’s coming. I see the changes making their way into my life. Fifty is only three more years away. I think about fifty as the water runs and my hands get wet. I wash them and think about my hair in almost a dozen twists and fifty. My stomach calls to me again. I dry my hands on my orange towel, taking care to ensure each hand has been dried of the river water. I turn out the lights in the bathroom, then walk to the kitchen in the dark. It’s very dark. I flick on the light. Too bright again. Too early to be up. But too late to stay in bed. The fridge is white. They mostly come in white, black and silver. Why not have pink or green refrigerators? Maybe purple or orange. Why must the majority of fridges be three basic colors. If I somehow become wealthy, I’ll custom order a fridge in a wild and fun color. I look inside the fridge but then my eyes catch a glimpse of a bottle of water on the counter. It’s 9.5 alkaline water. I prefer my water room temperature, even living in the heat of the Florida sun. I close the fridge and think about the light inside going out when the door shuts. What a clever invention. I pour the water into a small glass tea cup. I rarely drink full glasses of anything in a single sitting. Small drinks throughout the day suit me better. I drink it all, put the glass down, turn off the light and head back to the keyboard. The light is brighter now through the blinds. I imagine the sun is over the horizon. I realize my stomach is no longer aching. It has settled down. The ceiling fan spins on medium. I feel the air touch my skin. It’s cool. It reminds me to not spend the day inside, but go outside to feel the wind. Go to the beach and walk on the sand.
I think. I think. I think.
Today is about growth. Today is about doing what needs to be done, no excuses. It is about staying aware of self and being alert to those things we take for granted, such as a walk to the kitchen. It may seem simple to some, but imagine not being able to walk a few feet to one’s kitchen. Imagine not having the ability to walk a few feet to one’s bathroom. As I write this, many are on dialysis, their body unable to do the work of purification. I was able to go to the bathroom. What an incredible realization that we rarely look at! Imagine not being able to pee? It may sound crass to some, but it is a reality to so many whose body no longer functions normally. I am thankful for that which many believe is taboo to discuss, the ability to urinate.
The sky is bright. I continue to listen as my fingers tap the keyboard, making a dull sound. The words stream across the screen as I, from memory, create words on a system that I began using when I was a teenager. Now, the keyboard is like a supporting mind, a brain in my fingers that spills out onto the screen what comes from my mind. I am aware of this, as I am aware of many things this morning.
I think…it is time to post this and let the awareness of my existence fly into cyberspace. Where it lands, I won’t know. But no matter who reads this, I hope they are changed by it and take a moment to listen to their bodies and the world around them. Observe that which we live habitually. Observe your life one detail at a time.