Dec. 3rd Prompt: Moment.
Pick one moment during which you felt most alive this year.
Here’s the thing about me; I am almost always of two minds about things. I’m an extrovert who craves solitude; a decidedly practical person with a spiritual bent. My ideal home is as spare and empty as a monastery, but everything in it is covered in glitter. No surprise then, that I have not one, but two moments.
The first was during this year’s Marathon weekend ten miler. I ran as hard as I could for as long as I could. When I hit the 9 mile marker, I started to cry from sheer exhaustion. I spent the entire time focused on my breath, on the exertion of my muscles, willing myself forward…not just forward, but OUT.
The second is, of course, almost completely opposite. The evening of my birthday, hubby, I and the five kidlets went out to eat. We were seated in the far back room, isolated from our fellow diners, even though the restaurant was mostly empty. (I waited table for 11 years, so I don’t fault them at all for attempting to contain us. I would have sealed all families with small children in their own, private sensory deprivation tanks if I could have gotten away with it. However, perhaps because of my waitressing experiences, my children all have exemplary manners…at least when we go out to eat. At home its like watching a gang of Vikings fall on a roasted pig.) As I said, everyone was well behaved. We sat back there for the longest time, just eating and talking. Everyone was sweet. Everyone was funny and attentive to each other. My entire…what? spirit? awareness?…withdrew inward and settled – on pains of sounding like a big, gooney dork – on my heart. I felt my breath and my blood beating and I was so supremely in love with everyone seated around that table. Still am. But, shhhh, don’t tell them…it hurts my street cred.
So that’s it. Two moments. In and Out. Ebb and Flow. My two minds won’t let me pick just one. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to bed…or not. You can never tell with me.