Shower

I was on “super slow motion,” today (you know, the feature used in video re-plays of sports competitions on TV). Everything was slower than usual, and whatever didn’t absolutely have to be done, wasn’t. I was slowing down from a lot of stress, speed, responsibility, and intensity in my life. My plans to go up to Sacramento to visit my sister were cancelled early this morning, and the whole day stretched ahead without any appointments, commitments, deadlines, or people breathing down my neck for something. As I look back at what I accomplished today, I am a little embarrassed to say that my only real accomplishment of the day was taking a shower. I took a long shower, the likes of which I cannot take anymore, it seems. Standing under the running water, I made myself feel the water, listen to the sound, try and open my eyes to see it and feel it inside my eyes, open my mouth to feel the water on my tongue, and fight the urge to cut it and run, as I do every single day. I let the water run and run, visualizing it washing my pressures away, cleaning and draining the stressful thoughts that fill my head, rolling down to my poor neck and shoulders which these days feel burdened and heavy and in pain all the time, taking those pains into the drain. I imagined it polishing my mind, my nerves, my spine, my soul. I willed it to cleanse me and unburden me, washing my worries, my pains, and the tears that had joined the water, letting go of my heart. That’s what I accomplished today. A shower.