i remember sitting on the hard wood floor and
feeling like i was in a forest. i never thought
i would be living bill to bill, rent to rent, worried
about how to keep the hard wood over our heads.
i think i just thought it was all there–everything
we needed–for the taking, the sharing, the giving, the
living. it’s hard to live–really live–while worried about
your next deadline, next payment, next claim on your time.
i sit here writing about it instead of just living it. when i was
little i would go into my canopy worlds and escape time, escape
physicality, escape that palpable feeling of not belonging–
and would somehow find a soft space, between the knowing
waves and wise particles floating in the air and landing on the warm
wood, where everything felt right, connected, slowed way down
to perfection. i think this is where we are meant to be, back in the
forest of our child-mind, loving everything, living out the colors
and shapes and rhythms of play. no one had to tell us where to go,
or how to find it: our beautiful bliss was ever at our fingertips.