Thx. for tapping in. Ok is relative, right?
So I'm not ok. By my definition. But it's good because I'm present and in the moment and dialed-in to what I deem not ok.
And there's a woman here. Still sleeping. So the monastic silence and palpable loneliness of being here by myself is gone.
I'm not lonely right now. Even though the house is monastically silent as she sleeps.
Because of the knowing.
Because knowing that she's here creates a different kind of silence. It's the peaceful and nourishing kind.
The kind that allows me not to fear being alone with my thoughts.
The woman is sixteen. And she's learning to drive a stick shift. Fearfully. But that's ok because I'm right beside her.
She has curly hair and a suntan. And she starts her second summer at The Joffrey dance camp in New York next week.
We got rotisserie chicken and black beans and rice and cucumber salad last night. From the Peruvian couple who mind their little place ten hours a day, six days a week. They always seem more than ok.
And we ate it together sitting on the floor. In her room. Binge watching old Grey's Anatomy episodes.
So the eight minutes that I've taken to write this text has led me to see that I am. Ok.