Life these days is like slogging through damp sand; emotions come at me thick and heavy, get stuck in my nose, on the back of my tongue. I imagine my brain right now as a rock on the tide line; when overturned, crabs scuttle out of shrinking wet and sand fleas flop in distress at the sun’s rays. My thoughts and feelings are scrambling, some trying to get a new foothold outside of the old, well-worn trenches, some disappearing rapidly, hiding under different rocks I can’t uncover.
Minutes pool into hours, hours into days, until time is a swirling eddy, memories lost in the froth of rapids. There are moments, though, that flash like silver fish darting in between bubble blooms, easily missed except for brief leaps out of water into sunlight, scales glinting if you look right.
I’m casting a net, trying to scoop up heaps of fin and gill, wanting to hold these precious pieces of time in my hands, attempting to guide the crab-like thoughts in new directions. I want to embrace being in this world, stay wide-eyed for each detail, while also holding some of the past, what memories and former emotional experiences have to teach me
One thing I know to be true amongst the wave-carved rocks and driftwood that fills my head: my brain is conscious. Things are difficult just at present; memories might be lost or hard to retrieve, emotions and thoughts may be intense and sometimes frightening or challenging to control. And, like the creatures exposed at low tide who are capable of moving between saltwater and fresh air, my brain is strong, adaptable, and capable of survival.
I am alive…and it is a grand thing.