I am walking, and I find that I am smiling...for some reason. I think it is just being outside, in the sun, breathing in fresh air. It invigorates.
I think about the mask workshop I took in NYC, and how there was a woman in the class who was always smiling. "No one is that happy", I thought to myself.
I've been thinking about that workshop lately. It was 2012, and that was the first time I died.
My grandpa had just passed away, I couldn't get home fast enough. I wanted to crawl out of my skin.
I picture myself in front of the class, both hidden and exposed by the wearing of this mask, trying my hardest to send out my heart. My energy, right from that spot smack in the center of my chest, out and over the sea, to a loved one who had just left, as the assignment required.
Stretching. Expansion.
I look up as I walk, I'm always looking up, to see what's above, what messages are in the sky. My constant, to remind me that life is still big.
I think about the time I stood on a Hawaiian beach, observing a father teaching his toddler how to surf, my writing of this observation, and the realization that there are so many ways in which to live life, and parent a child. This child of the waves teaching me a lesson in expansion in that instant.
It has never left me.
There is a new corner of the world, just every few miles.
Endless possibility at our feet.
I keep walking.
.
.
.
.
