Last night, despite single-digit temperatures, I went out to dinner with my mom, sister and niece. My body balked at the notion of going anywhere in this cold, but I forced my inner hermit into silence and got dressed to go all the same. And we had a great time, just catching up and laughing and being silly.

Silly is good.

I find myself, especially at this time of year, living by rote, filling my days with habits and patterns and same-old same-old, and it’s nice to veer off the beaten path and walk through a field, cut through an alley, wander aimlessly. I don’t do that often enough.

Lately, I’ve barely had time to write in the mornings, and I am missing that particular habit, one that’s surely worth keeping. My days have felt slightly off, rushed, harried, and it’s taken me this long to figure out why. I’m out of my groove.

But life is funny like that, it doesn’t really allow you to stay in any one rut for very long, things are always changing, shifting, moving. Even when you try to hold your place, you can feel the earth tilting beneath you, forcing you to change your stance just to remain upright.

But change is also good; in some ways, it’s what keeps us going.

I cut all my hair off. (Or rather, I had a professional do it). I’m leaving the house more often, to spend time with the people I love. I’m reading books like they are food. Or air. Or both. I’m organizing.

I look in the mirror and hardly recognize myself.

Except this morning I got up and smiled at the outrageous case of bedhead I’d acquired during the night, looking as if I’d spent the night spinning on my head like a top. (Truly, it’s my superpower).

Ah yes, there I am.

The more things change, the more they stay the same.

My inner hermit takes great comfort in that.

6 Responses to “chill”

  • honey Says:

    dare i say…this is my favorite post of yours?

    (since my last favorite!!)

  • d smith kaich jones Says:

    silly is sometimes the best medicine there is. even when what you’re feeling is just the earth tilting under your feet.

    and you cut your hair! i thought you were only joking! now i picture you as a dandelion climbing out of your bed. 🙂 i know it’s not that crazy, but i like the image. xoxo

  • brian miller Says:

    i was telling someone last night that in order to find poetry we have to live a little…its good you are getting out more and living…and from that, your writing will come when its time…smiles.

  • Audrey Howitt Says:

    Giving in to the outside world in winter no less–it is a wonderful thing to see yourself and winter a little differently perhaps–best to you!!

  • Glenn Buttkus Says:

    Powerful insightful prose poem, giving us a day in the life, dead of winter; lovely & yet true introspection; jaunty, honest, fascinating, as the minions of the mundane are spruced up, redirected, forgiven, & reborn; poetry is regenerative after all.

  • Lindy Lee Says:

    What do you do about your nose & toes in single digit weather? Cannot imagine sacrificing the comfort of inner hermitism for frozen vital body parts. Tee! Hee!

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