Growing Versions

 She walks out of the room,  away from him and the trajectory of the shards of that revolving argument gathering up a plate of half eaten fruit and an inside out sweater as she goes.  She enters the kitchen and casts her eyes around the room. She turns the sweater right side out and tosses the remains of the fruit into the compost.  The copious piles of plates, crusts of bread and cold coffee ahead of her propel her forward.   The sink itself is piled high with pots from the homemade pasta and porridge that had been planned hours in advance yesterday while she half listened to a webinar.   The heat of the earlier argument dissolves in dishwater.  It eases off in flakes as the clear water rinses away the sediment of earlier decisions.  The next meal starts to be assembled in her mind's eye, oh yes, we have that salmon in the fridge. We should use that , it will taste good with the leftover bits from yesterday's vegetables- maybe with a sauce?  no maybe not, it will just get wast

Since 2020, I have written the following: -grandiose grocery lists (written on an empty stomach) that often end up getlting left behind at home -funding proposals -delicately worded emails -harried Whatsapp messages -a slew of facebook messages (that basically kept me alive) -a tinder profile or two... -utilitarian text messages -heart felt text messages -the very occasional love note (on paper) to a friend or a loved one The things I have not written since 2020: -a journal -a multi-page handwritten letter -a play -a sketch -a novel -more than 2-3 blog posts that I didn't even publish -a pros and cons list

We talk to ourselves everyday, all day (and night) for the whole of our lives. We started talking to ourselves before we knew we were a self, we forget what we said because we forget everything from before...when we were too young and busy developing our brain to remember those early years. There is still lingering residue of long forgotten conversations I have had with myself as a toddler sitting around in the crevices...sloughing off occasionally into words I tell myself still.   We talk non-stop, and not just with dialogue.  Our goosebumps communicate to us, our tingly feelings, our neurons, our peripheal vision.  They are all submitting data into our self and expecting us to react, respond or all to often, expecting what they are sending us will be ignored. After all that talking, you'd think we'd know what we think about most things, but occasionally we are stumped.  Unless we stop what we are doing and really concentrate sometimes that voice(s) get drowned out.

  Those who have a 'why' to live, can bear with almost any 'how'. ― Viktor E. Frankl

Just as the heat releases and the air gets still, the dark starts to settle in.  I really resist it. It makes me feel unsettled and a bit cheated when I first notice it gets quite dark  by 7, then 6, now 5. I wonder how I will ever find energy to live through the winter or even through the night.  And then it dawns on me, light a candle. Find a way. Let your eyes adjust to the dark.