Black Goose

I was walking along the railroad tracks that led from the urban part of the county to the rural part, past a cemetary, a slaughterhouse and eventually the nut house.  Green pastures oozed from behind the line of maturing oak trees like dollops of green coconut mounds, randomly populated by little houses seemingly constructed of nothing more than a few walls of cardboard and sandpaper roofs. Talking to my two comrades, I looked down as I scuffed my feet in the gravel when I noticed a black baby goose hopping  its round little body, up and down, going nowhere. I bent toward it and scooped it into both hands. Upon showing my fellow travelers, and disputing the possible whereabouts of its relatives, the infant goose transfigured into a human baby, though a little smaller than most human babies. She was clearly a newborn, but with silky golden locks and an irrepressible smile, which she kept stuffing her hands into. She quietly cawed at me, soft spurts of joy and love.  I hugged her because what else was I to do with a tiny child who could not control her body movements nor her abundant happiness? It was at this moment that I suddenly forgot I was standing at railroad tracks, forgot my comrades, and could only focus on nurturing the baby and my instant desire to have one of my own. Upon recognizing this fervor for motherhood, I considered this baby’s mom and that my mission must be to find the woman. This was an easy task, as nearby were heavy swinging glass doors that led into an infant care facility. Inside the doors were vases arranged uniformly, as tall as me, with white flowers bundled neatly like tepees, floating in the water. A woman in a nurse’s uniform came from behind a desk with her arms stretched toward me, knowing immediately where the baby belonged. Handing the happily brimming child over, the urge toward motherhood multiplied.

Losing Hairs

I decided to cut my hair for the end of one part of my life and the beginning of a new one.  All the important players throughout my years were going to be present for a commemoration ceremony, which was to celebrate the inhalation of new days, an era rejuvenated by the past, yet ignorant of the future, and fully overwhelmed by the body of the present.

My new haircut worried and plagued the minds of several who were close to me, one in particular who asked me how long it would take my hair to grow out to the length it was before. The haircut was nothing of major consequence by my estimation, except that it was about 4 or 5 centimeters long. The simple, yet monumental and noticeable, difference caught attention and created snippets of conversation.

I had nothing to add to the reactions of others, only that the cutting of hair seemed essential for moving into the depths of  my mysterious future.

 

The Freeway Jump

I was walking along a bridge that connected to the freeway. Traffic was bustling by me, but I didn’t mind all the commotion, nor was I threatened by its proximity. I contemplated jumping from the bridge into the busy traffic below. I had been told that I would survive the jump (even though it was a very long fall), even with the speedy cars. I jumped, landing on my feet without an ache in my body and without a car coming close to hitting me. I turned and saw nothing behind me. No cars, traffic, people. Just a long empty road. Ahead of me cars were appearing out of nowhere. I walked along, seamlessly weaving through the busy activity without doubt, courageously and curiously drifting with some purpose.

Spaceship

I dreamt I was in a space vessel with some unknown travelers. I told a fellow traveler that I was worried about being sick in outer space and that I was scared of being weightless. The traveler squenched his eyes with annoyance, “But you’ve done this a million times, why would it make you sick now?” Perplexed, I tried to remember what it felt like to travel in outer space all those times before. Then it occurred to me that the impact of spinning combined with high speed made me so dizzy I would fall asleep every time. On this sojourn, however, I awoke shortly after take off and watched the stars as we spun and projected through the galaxy. Our destination was further than we had gone before and I was glad to get to be conscious finally.

Shakey

I’m Quitting

Today is my first day off cigarettes. I don’t remember the last time I attempted quitting. I remember the first cigarette I smoked after having been quit for over a year. I was sitting at the kitchen table with my boyfriend of the time, after a string of stressful days, and after a particularly grueling day waiting tables at a local restaurant. He had offered me cigarettes before, but I had yet to accept any of these hand-rolleds. I was especially desperate and moody this afternoon, which caused me to toss caution to the wind. What I recall of that cigarette was that it did not taste very good, made me nauseous, but relaxed me. I remember thinking the disadvantages outweighed the perks right then at the kitchen table, but I fell victim to my own weakness and succumbed to another year and a half of roller-coaster up-down smoking.

The clarity of quitting, this time, will serve me well because I’m making the leap differently than past attempts.

• I have so far told my closest friends about this decision to quit. It’s cold turkey and I might get snippy or moody, but I will make every effort to avoid the foul behavior.
• I am carrying around with me a bottle of this just in case: http://www.gaiaherbs.com/images_prod/nicotine-relief.jpg.
• More yoga!
• A quitting buddy, Patrick, will smack my hand and/or insult me anytime I fail myself.
• I am considering setting aside, occasionally, 8 or 9 dollars to represent the money I’d otherwise spend on tobacco (I smoked roll-your-own American Spirits, which, although more expensive, was organically grown and the pouch would last sometimes upwards of two weeks), making it my healthy lung foundation. I have yet to figure out what to do with the money (suggestions welcome).

And, of course, there are some things I will do similarly to my past attempts.

• Be thankful for my senses of taste and smell returning. More bath salts, essential oils, sushi, bread, coffee and experimental desserts. Need I say more?
• Far less alcohol. Smoking is a time killer. So is drinking. The two combined are like salt and pepper.
• New found time on my hands (literally) resulting in some new, healthy habits, or an emphasis on the regular old stuff.
• Drink more water. I can’t explain, but it always works this way. Perhaps my body knows when it’s trying to flush out old toxins, especially toxins that I’ve put in my body daily for too long  a stretch.
• I’ll smell better, be cleaner, have whiter teeth, have a more natural, less harsh voice, be more alert, more balanced………