© Copyright Ruby Claire                                         

What is left of me?

June 25, 2016

 

I am 29; a child, a teenager, an elder, a person reaching 30. Reaching the time when people say, "I do", "I have", "I marry", "I invest"...all that cocktail party nonsense. I am 29; the year things end. 

 

Born on the 29th day in the dead of Winter I still remember the silence, the stillness, the soft whispers of snow. That blizzard lives in my bones. Each snowflake coiled in a memory of DNA.

 

What was left of me then is what is left of me now.

 

Weather, salt, and sea have purified and pulled my sandcastles away. One by one they quickly dissolved, liberating me from what I "should be", want, do, conform to or save. I could not save the sand slipping through my tightly grasped fingers.

 

What is left of me now?

 

I stand naked facing the elements that stripped me bare. No words, no thoughts, no emotions, no identity, no "shoulds"; just stillness. Untethered and graciously thanking what I cannot control.

 

What was left of me then is what is left of me now.

 

I listen, I love, I watch, I eat, I listen, I love, I watch, I sleep...I AM. I am a precious BEing listening to the soft whispers of snow.

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