The dogs wake me with whining at three am, I take the older one out and as I stand in the almost autumn like cool, I can swear I hear coyotes yipping and howling in the ravine, the dogs hear it too, because they both stand quietly listening to their wild cousins. I am astonished they are so close.
I wake in the morning, and open the front door to let in the eastern sun and the cool rain freshened air. The light glistens on the lilies and I take my camera, I take pictures but I stop and watch as the plant moves with no breeze, as the lilies quietly caress each other, as the world around me comes into focus and I am a flower and a raindrop the clean dirt and the sun. I breathe.
This morning I am grateful, for the ability to express myself, and still have friends. A friend. One of the best of friends.
I tell myself I am crazy, this polarized back and forth of emotions is getting the best of me. But I also feel like I am in transition, not just the word transition but the pregnant almost not pregnant transition hostile and lashing out.
Bill tells me that there is something about me that is more relaxed, something around the eyes. And I have noticed in the mirror, that there is something different in my face, I don’t know what it is, maybe though it is the eyes. I am there as he gets the phone call that their purchase offer has been accepted. I watch them hug and kiss in public, it is good that all these changes are happening in the public, for gay people, I have seen them kiss and hug and hold hands and cuddle in private, but now they can as they celebrate the next phase in their lives.
I do yoga in the living room as the dog kisses my face, until I have to push her a way telling her to stop. She lays down on the mat and I do downward dog and plank over her completing my long sun salutation with her in the middle. It makes me laugh out loud.
Bear with me my friends, I am getting there. I promise it will not be too long, this transition. I am giving birth to something great
It feels really good.
And I am listening.