The exquisite corpse

The corpse

And I found myself back in the house I grew up in.

Despite connecting often through screens, and phone lines and old fashioned post, I miss the touch of my Grandma's warm, curved hands, her over-heated home, and her persistent offers of food and drink; that space is one I long to return to, and wonder if I will before it is changed irrevocably.

I am here and I’m not sure I want or need to be anywhere else.

Nothing had changed - only our eyes saw for the first time.

Am I here behind my eyes or here behind my nose?

Yearning for that simple thread, I find myself swimming through a pool of yarn.

Do you stare sitting in emptiness?

Waiting for the call ... retired but available. Am I still able? Will I cope, will I manage?

I'm left standing inside a memory. One that I struggle to remember.

I never left. I just hid behind the expectations, norms and labels society forced upon me.

Serenity & peace, calm & comfort, hope & encouragement, love & compassion, freedom to flourish ...

The way forward is the way back, nada nada nada ...

With every footstep, the earth quakes. I am here. And I will be there too.

Here I am, looking out the window.

Am I ready?

I have never really felt that I am here.

The truth is I am definitely not here. Not anywhere that you might tell me is anything like "here."

I am here, the lukewarm winter sun kissing my skin and the laptop. To walk!

To walk!

Or am I still there? Hoping that this unshaken body, as the sun sets, suddenly awakes?

The thought of re-entering that virtual classroom came with a terror from the well of my intestines.

Here I am, a straight circle to nowhere I rather be.

Sometimes I have to remind myself; it’s always sunny above the clouds.

It’s up and down but I’m not sure which way I’m facing.

I am filled with gratitude for what I have and I am full of longing for what I have lost - touch.