I'm being a terrible blogger. Normally, I write so much more.
I just feel quiet. That, and the things I do blog about, I don't publish.
I have written three different blog versions of something,I have rewritten them several times, and I have posted none of them.
Keith is away at class, so the house has been very still and quiet. It's full of smells. It's amazing how the A/C kills any scents in the air. Now that I have turned it off, the house is swimming in scents; cut grass, chlorine, air freshener, wet dog.
Yesterday, I went for a walk, and it struck me, how sensual it is to be alive. It's almost impossible to avoid.
We are surrounded on all side by sensations- the feel of the air, and the taste of water and the scent of pine and all the sounds that pulse through the air.
I was lying in bed last night, just listening to the screech of the insects; how they wind up and up and up into this almost unbearable pitch and, abruptly, the sound dies.
It seemed beautiful to me, that such a small thing, that lived for such a short time, should have a passionately loud, insistent voice.
It's hot in the night; I toss and turn from one side of the bed to the other, depending on which is cooler. The girls sleep on the bathroom floor, limp and boneless on the linoleum.
In the evenings, I open the doors to the pool and read on the bed. Sometimes even the book can't keep my attention, I just watch the sky and the leaves rustling.
I miss Keith, but I don't feel lonely. I am at home with myself. I am small; I am finite, and in knowing that, I am somehow dropped right into that one moment of time, with the moist warm air of late summer and the shrill of the insects. I am floating in the quiet heart of my finite, present life.
I feel the presence of God all around me, in the quietness. I know Him. I call Him by name.
Goodness. I just logged on to facebook, and found my father had just posted a quote:
"A deep inner emptiness is needed; that inner emptiness becomes the womb. So I'm not saying stop doing, stop action; I'm not saying that. I am saying that whatsoever you are doing, let it be just an outside activity. Inside become feminine, silent, doors opened, empty, waiting."