Today, like virtually every other day, was spent reading and thinking. There was, however, something about today which carried a certain calm, a certain contentedness that had, for the past few weeks, spiraled into a hazy sphere of question and emptiness. Today, for whatever reason, the air seemed clearer, my head more balanced. I still, however, have yet to come to terms with how certain things just disappear, fade back into space without alarm. How a future can suddenly only exist in the past.
After finishing my work for the day, I cleaned my apartment, threw the leash on Athena and walked to the lake as we do every day. The night was perfectly still, as if we moved within a picture. A bright half moon filled the black sky with white light. Not a soul was out. We walked at our usual brisk pace; I breathed in the clean air which was infused with the spirit-soothing aroma of fireplaces warming homes and hearts around me. As I do every day, I allowed my thoughts to shape in the movement of our walk. It was only weeks ago that Athena and I would walk this path, and I would smile with each step at the lucidity of a quickly harmonizing present and future, of a life which was never so clear and had suddenly burst open into a brilliant space, myriad spires of meaning fusing into the solemn stare of a moment. The clearest calm after a rainstorm. We would walk and I would think of the three of us walking. I thought of Sunday Styles and Starbucks; of airplanes and Lonely Planet; of laughs and sighs and smiles.
Over the past few weeks, our daily walks have not been the same. While as before each step was like walking into unfolding clarity, now was liking stepping carelessly into an expanse of nothingness. The spires disjoined and disappeared, leaving only mist.
After walking for a little over an hour, Athena and I returned home and while Athena ate her dinner, I did yoga. Upon finishing, I meditated before drawing myself a warm bath. While in the bath I tried to write, but couldn’t translate my thoughts to words, so I read instead. Upon emerging, calm and clean and very much awake at 10 PM, I baked some tofu which had been marinating in a soy ginger vinaigrette, and ate it over a bed of brown rice with a glass of Nero D’Avola. Not feeling like working on my writing, I instead popped one of my all-time favorites, The Wizard of Oz, into the DVD player and curled up on my couch, Athena resting beside me.
Side note: Back when I began the research for my undergraduate thesis, it was my intent to write it on Baum’s Oz Chronicles. I hadn’t begun writing it, but my research was beyond its initial stage before I changed course and wrote it on Waiting for Godot. Quite a shift, eh?
I finish this now as my eyes grow heavy, my mind slows down. My entire confounded philosophy of life can be summed up, more or less, in one phrase: find harmony within chaos. For the first time in my life I thought I had found it; but as quickly as it came it vanished and I was thrust, detached and uninspired, back into confusion and tumult. It seems today I was able to realign, to re-find consonance in the dissonance of unfolding time and breathe in air not heavy with question.