It is cool and crisp.
But also clear and bright.
This last year so much has been lost and gained.
Ups and downs.
A liquid brimming—and then the vessel emptied.
Over and over.
It is filled and spilled by waves of unexpected and extreme sizes—both enormous and imperceptably small.
My brain can’t decide which parts of life to “reset” or transform first,
so I force my body to STOP.
To not receive words, but a sensation-al sign of what direction to move.
For the next brief period—and hour, maybe two—there is no to-do list.
No test message to return or call to answer.
Just a candle and an open window.