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A Slow Friday in Fridaville

I have been loving the torrential rain all week, and the weather has given me a perfect excuse to nestle into my house. I feel so grateful to have a shelter, and I never take it for granted. Always in the back of my mind is the fear of losing it, of being a burden on my kids, of having no private place to be myself. I’m not sure where or when that particular dread was born — I’ve never been homeless, never missed a rent or mortgage payment, never had to depend on the kindness of strangers. Maybe it was the chaotic way I grew up that left me with a tendency to what-if my future, but  my word for 2013 was NOW and I’m really trying to live it. Whenever I got frantic today about not having achieved all the writing I meant to get done, I reminded myself that I’m ahead of schedule on the July Skirt!, that  I accomplished some XX work, that I made a good work plan for tomorrow. Friday in Fridaville should be slow like honey that is not made by killer bees, so I took a walk and felt good about my body instead of beating myself up about taking a time-out. And when 5pm rolled around, it found me on a nearby beach watching a friend surf while I sipped a Hendricks gin and tonic. I was a tiny insignificant speck surrounded by wind and water, sunshine and whipped cream clouds. I wasn’t worrying about Saturday or regretting Thursday, and when I climbed in the truck to go home, my hair and skin felt blessed by salt air and sand, my soul sanctified by the sea, my body balanced on the beam of Now.

One Response to “Friday Night in Fridaville”

  1. V-Grrrl says:

    “My body balanced on the beam of Now.” I love that line.

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