Luxuries

written during Healers/Therapists monthly group, December 5, 2012

The longer I am sitting here the longer the list grows.  Feeling a burdensome heaviness, I watch the sunrise above the crest of naked trees. The cold wind blowing sticklike remnants of brown leafy remains, I think of more tasks to complete; walk the dog, dust the house, rake the fallen leaves, fold the laundry.  On and on it goes, the list growing until I start to insert the things I want to spend my time doing; swim, write, yoga, music.  

The dreams push the obligations aside and soon I find myself smiling, feeling lighter, looking for balance in my task-driven existence.  The guilt starts knocking at my serene door.  I open it a crack and tell it to “fuck off.”  I want this moment to dream, to plan, to enjoy and escape from the driving, nagging world I have trapped myself into.  And in the end there will be no hangover.  I lift my pen and drag it across the page, removing the first item from my list; writing.  A luxury and a necessity, I inhale  deeply. —Cynthia