Stepping gingerly into a scalding bath, first the legs, slowly lowering my buttocks to sit on the bottom. Easing back to rest on the lovely slope of the tub with a deep sigh. I breath deeply into the warmth and silence. Once comfortable in the heat, I stand up and open the window that is at chest level. It is minus eleven degrees outside and the window ledge has a few inches of snow built up against it. I can touch its whiteness. I sit back down, lying back to the bliss that awaits. The frigid air streams in, flowing like a river of steam as it wafts over the top of the tub and makes its way over the edge into the room. I take gulps of it, clean and fresh like a mountain stream. There is a hill behind the condo over which the air streams, coming down from one of the summits of Mont Royal, the peak that Montreal is built around. After the closed in feel of forced air that is necessary and comforting that heats this place, the coolness is a balm to my being. To lie in heat with the crispness touching my face, caressing my neck……thIs. Yes, this is a moment of beauty. I savor it.
This is life. Moments.
My daughter called early, though for her she had been in her day for a couple of hours already , living by a toddler’s early rise. I could feel the tug of her wanting. She was facing another snowbound day with her little one and she was weary. She is a sunshine gal, most at home with water and surf and heat. I can understand wanting to hitch your being to someone’s else’s energy for a time. Wanting that pull up the hill, a way to survive the monotony of whiteness that is a sea surrounding her in this winter landscape. I love time with my grandson. I miss him on the days that I do not see him. Yet, I must refuel my stores. I must source my own energy. I have been locked in two speeds for so long. Movement and energy for the family, for my daughter, for a project…..and then total collapse where the couch and netflix and ice cream and chocolate and salty crackers are my whole world. I seek a new life. I intend this year to be my year of coming back to the land of the living. I have been present and showed up when needed in many ways. Now I want to show up in a more connected way with more people and more life.
I desire to be a part of a writer’s group. I desire to have friends that I see regularly in the physical! I desire a home of my own after twelve years of nomadic living. I desire to feel grounded to place, to the earth. I desire a lover, a beloved to share the moments. I desire an art studio to create in. I desire a community where co- creation is the norm. I desire to wake up like my grandson, with such joy that the day has dawned once again and it is no longer “dodo” time, which is sleep time for him in his French vocabulary.
All of this awaits us as we traverse the fields of unconsciousness and penetrate all with our lovelight. It is happening. We are here and we will not give up. All will be brought back to love. All will come to fruition. The sleepless nights, the fatigue, the hot and cold waves, the itching, the isolation, the scarcity of resources, the living out of time and out of step with this reality……all of it is being transformed.
Hence, savoring the moments as they arise.