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jack_babalonI woke up to find myself a little boy again.
The snow outside the window, lined along the race of phonewires, perilously balanced across the swaying branches, scattered across the expanse of lawns, huddled in the concrete steps outside the driveway saying "Shhhhh.... don't tell the sun where we're hiding".It doesn't look like a storm hit, it looks more like the aftermath of a pillow fight between angels. Memory flood. I remember rising early before school to walk the dogs. First steps across the virgin white. I'd pretend I was the last boy on Earth, there was no one else but me and the pups- Khan,'Ropa & Val(kyrie). I'd let them off the chain despite my Fathers instructions not to. More often than not they'd run away and it would take the better part of an hour to track them down, my Father and I yelling out their names and giving desperate chase. But it was fun to sprint around the banks of snow trying to elude them, circling around the woods of VanCourtland Park, hiding behind the trees and leaping off the mounds as they came in on me. Eventually I'd put them back on the leash, and trudge back up to the house to get ready for school.
The house is silent finally. This is the only time I have to myself really. The few minutes I sit in the dark before I leave to catch the bus. Crowded lonliness, to be around people all the time and never connect. Remembering my dogs puts me in a strange place. Sad. Small. Bad drama demon whispering in my ear-
"You never grew up Rob, You never escaped. Condemned forever. Talk all you want it's just babble to them, go ahead and write. Write and write until the fingers bleed and they'll never hear a word you say funny boy."
Bukowski once wrote that 'most men never escape the playground'.
That doesn't go down well. Claustrophobic reaction. My thoughts are caving in on me. Click off the tube. Rise out of the cloud soft couch. Step outside the door.
Cold splashes the face. Waking up a second time.
I close my eyes. I count and measure the cycle of my breaths for a few seconds. I open my eyes. It comes back. The wide wonder of the world before me. I need to practice my Pranayana. Counting the breaths clears the mind, but only for a few seconds, then the thoughts grow like creeper vines and strangle the moment with it's tendrils. Shake it off. Try again. Then again, and again and one more time. Six in, Six hold, exhale for 12 and no-breath for another six. I force myself to see a gold glow in front of me. It holds. I feel clear headed. I walk down the driveway. There is a burst of wind and suddenly everything is brighter, look up and there is a small island of blue sky floating along the sea of snowclouds, I watch this patch of light sweep by me and drift down the street, swinging the curves of shadows wildly and passing back over and above the walls of pine trees at the bottom of the hill.
Stop in my tracks.
I nod.
I go on.
It's the most beautiful morning of the winter and I have a lot to learn.
The snow outside the window, lined along the race of phonewires, perilously balanced across the swaying branches, scattered across the expanse of lawns, huddled in the concrete steps outside the driveway saying "Shhhhh.... don't tell the sun where we're hiding".It doesn't look like a storm hit, it looks more like the aftermath of a pillow fight between angels. Memory flood. I remember rising early before school to walk the dogs. First steps across the virgin white. I'd pretend I was the last boy on Earth, there was no one else but me and the pups- Khan,'Ropa & Val(kyrie). I'd let them off the chain despite my Fathers instructions not to. More often than not they'd run away and it would take the better part of an hour to track them down, my Father and I yelling out their names and giving desperate chase. But it was fun to sprint around the banks of snow trying to elude them, circling around the woods of VanCourtland Park, hiding behind the trees and leaping off the mounds as they came in on me. Eventually I'd put them back on the leash, and trudge back up to the house to get ready for school.
The house is silent finally. This is the only time I have to myself really. The few minutes I sit in the dark before I leave to catch the bus. Crowded lonliness, to be around people all the time and never connect. Remembering my dogs puts me in a strange place. Sad. Small. Bad drama demon whispering in my ear-
"You never grew up Rob, You never escaped. Condemned forever. Talk all you want it's just babble to them, go ahead and write. Write and write until the fingers bleed and they'll never hear a word you say funny boy."
Bukowski once wrote that 'most men never escape the playground'.
That doesn't go down well. Claustrophobic reaction. My thoughts are caving in on me. Click off the tube. Rise out of the cloud soft couch. Step outside the door.
Cold splashes the face. Waking up a second time.
I close my eyes. I count and measure the cycle of my breaths for a few seconds. I open my eyes. It comes back. The wide wonder of the world before me. I need to practice my Pranayana. Counting the breaths clears the mind, but only for a few seconds, then the thoughts grow like creeper vines and strangle the moment with it's tendrils. Shake it off. Try again. Then again, and again and one more time. Six in, Six hold, exhale for 12 and no-breath for another six. I force myself to see a gold glow in front of me. It holds. I feel clear headed. I walk down the driveway. There is a burst of wind and suddenly everything is brighter, look up and there is a small island of blue sky floating along the sea of snowclouds, I watch this patch of light sweep by me and drift down the street, swinging the curves of shadows wildly and passing back over and above the walls of pine trees at the bottom of the hill.
Stop in my tracks.
I nod.
I go on.
It's the most beautiful morning of the winter and I have a lot to learn.