Mystic Writer

Peeking out to see if there is a real world out there...

Thursday, November 11, 2004

The age of deprivation

My eyes scrape and my muscles are cornflakes, crunchy and fragile. For no apparent reason I've not been able to sleep the last couple nights. I even tried my Melatonin to no avail - I was so hopeful after my last two Melatonin sleeps which were deep and blessed with dream appearances of my wondrous friend whom assured me that all would be well - I even received a friendly touch on my arm which still tingled when I awoke hours later. Perhaps it's the November gloom and the walking in the dark.

In a perfect world I would have spent the sleepless time puttering around with my wondrous friend, straightening up and doing the little things that always need doing, but that is not meant to be...

The appellation 'my wondrous friend' is grating through overuse. I think I need to come up with some initials since I'm realizing she is going to be a continuing topic. MWF smacks too much of ad acronyms, as does WF. I think she is a phenomenal person, but PP is not even remotely where I want to go. Hmmm... I also think she is the best person I've ever known - TBP? I don't like the P in any context, so TB it will be - 'The Best'!

My last two hikes were in large urban parks. The parks are both physically beautiful, with small lakes and nice woods and prairies, and I do enjoy the scenery. The incessant noise of the city creeps in, and the people I see do not acknowledge my presence, something that disturbs me mightily. When I'm more than a mile from the parking lot, all the people I see are jogging and most have headphones. They all appear to be focused completely inward, as if the pressure of nature threatens them. A very different feeling than my hikes in the remote parks.

That all said, my hike yesterday was done with my little boy in my backpack. With diapers and water bottles the pack comes to about 50 pounds, so it makes a significant difference in my hiking style - no floating for me! My little boy has been hiking with me for his entire life of 3 years, and he is a keen observer of nature and place and mood. He is a joy to be around, pointing out things that are beautiful and exciting (his words) and telling me how he feels about them. I have gone my whole life with only one deep connection to anyone (my grandmother), and now I've got a palpable feeling of sharing my soul with both TB and my son.

I have hiked only twice with TB, and neither time was it just she and me and my son. Even so it was wonderful to see her connecting with nature - I would so like to hike with her alone or with my son...

...I am so tired today I can't keep any sort of thread of thought going. I think I'll have to figure out some way to elevate my spirits...


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