California ~
thank you for my birth
never did revisit you
except disneyland
_______
Washington~
thanks for being home
the body of a mountain
lungs like evergreens
_______
Oregon~
washington's tumor
your coastlines are far superb
please stay a secret
_______
Nevada~
my ****** noses
homeschooling and snowboarding
miss your tumbleweeds
_______
Ohio~
all I remember
three legged cat in forest
hillside four-wheeling
_______
North Carolina~
the blue ridge mountains,
guitar hero and hopscotch
made up for the snakes
_______
Florida~
fondest memories
most important, my first kiss
beach had a nice view
_______
Wisconsin~
how did I survive
must have been warmth from others
also my parka
_______

In my journal I had written a bit while I waited in the hospital for a family member.
I observed others. Some elderly woman looked run down, tired, and a bit irritated with their writing tasks and paperwork they must complete in the lobby. They are full of pain and impatience.
Then there was this woman.. this woman who was raised up in an electric wheelchair, smiling out of squinted eyes and wrinkles like memory foam from decades of laughing.
She reminded me of the transition from summer to autumn.
Those first couple days of crisp weather and that restorative feeling you get and thought you forgot during the peak intensity of the heat. Her face was full of youth and acceptance.
She knows everything will be alright.
And I find inspiration in her countenance and stop biting my fingernails.

My therapist recently asked me "have you ever tried mindfulness?"
I laughed a bit, thinking of the week-long mindfulness camp I attended for suicidal adolescents. I went twice.
This peaceful brain training is essentially giving us a sanctuary to retreat when the world is too loud.
We would eat skittles and describe their flavor and textures. We would focus on our breaths. Make beaded art. Tell collaborative stories. Follow guided meditations laying on unfamiliar gym floors, giggling a bit as we soared through clouds.
I remembered my dedication to mindfulness and the rich peace I felt from finding the present moment.
Now that my anxiety followed me into adulthood, I was willing to revisit. It's kind of a stupid challenge since the present is always here... and yet, it's still a challenge.
I look out my dusty, sun filled window decorated with three vases of dry arrangements. My mind starts to posture into how warm and antique this image feels. My eyes well up with tears as I hear birds sing and trees sway.

"There are two types of people in the world," he laughed after a heavy swig. I laughed and anticipated a mindless reply.
"Those who are pens, and those who are pencils".
An eye-roll dismissed the statement but a curious brow stayed in place.
"All I'm saying is that some folks have a certainty about them. Everything glides off their tongue like cursive dipped in black ink".
I thought of where I might fall on the spectrum.

During the dormant winter I longed for the carefree nature that stems from warmth. Now it is here, merciless, fully.. and the exposure is awakening our mindfulness as well as the collective sundial. Bringing us out and present in the wheel and spinning us around. We worship the sun without recognition. It makes it so easy to be warm with one another, to remember our roots in the universe, to flourish under a quiet and beautiful energy.. unbroken.

If I had enough wits to fly,
I'd like to escape the sky,
I'd leave in mid-June,
wave bye to the moon
whilst riding a huge firefly.

The still, soft morning
A sun ray illuminates
The joy of being.