Over the course of this past month things have been gradually falling away from my center, falling out of my life. The first things to fall away were lovers and romantic encounters. A bone chilling, sea salt tasting wind from the northeast forced the fall of every single romantic interest, irrespective of duration or depth, from the branches, quickly and swiftly. In the span of a week, the branch was barren with the exception of only a single leaf, hanging on by the most fragile and delicate thread. But at last his confused and lukewarm desire was no match for the pull of gravity.
Then came a big business deal I’ve been structuring and attempting to bring to life. I attempted to graft a new branch into my current structure; I added lots of duct tape and a 2×4 beam to support the weight. I wanted it to grow, to take root within the existing branches and foster a beautiful new hybrid. Yet the transplant effort failed. There was too much resistance and fear tainted the entire endeavor.
I laid in bed alone for too many days with the cold of the century, unable to move and without a complicated thought in my mind. With every clearing of my nasal passage, bronchial system, snot, phlegm and more, I purged. I let go of the to do list, the Type A drive and simply, let go.
I stand in the middle of Central Park under a crisp blue sky, having beaten the plague (or infected thousands of other unsuspecting New Yorkers), unwittingly cleansed of the excess in my life, then I realize we are days away from Spring. Did I anticipate Spring and that is why I cleaned house unknowingly? I just want to stand here for a moment and feel the weightlessness of emptiness. I would like to be still for a moment and not feel the pull of ambition or longing. I want to revisit purpose and see if the mission is still accurate.
…. at last, these moments of stillness don’t last long. I can already feel the budding of new leaves and taste the burnt caramel of adventure.