MoLT

THE DAY: Friday July 27th 2007
THE TIME: 2:09 AM
THE MUSIC: Amy Hit the Atmosphere; Counting Crows
THE MOMENT: molt.

* * * * * * *

First, a moment with Katie.

Me "Would you want him?"
Kelly "No"
Katie "No... she likes Tyler now."
Katie "Didnt you mack a Tyler?"
Me "Mmmm... no."
Katie "I macked a Tyler... didnt I mack two Tylers?
Wait. Who did I mack two of?"
Me "Mmmm... Preston"
Katie "Oh. Prestons..."

* * * * *

I'm reading this book, its becoming my favorite. Its called Writing Down The Bones. She talks about how, if we allow ourselves to see things naturally, we will think in first thoughts. Instead, we edit and apply logic and end up speaking/writing in 4th and 5th thoughts. So sometimes these days I close my eyes and let my first thoughts speak.

Here it is.

I see two steep grassy hills, almost mountains, and a narrow valley in the middle. There are moons sitting on top of each mountain, my moons. Some are heavy in my mind. The moon from the night I ran away from my Dad. The moon from the night I lay in my driveway because I was scared to run away. The moon from the night I left Utah. The moon from one night early this summer when I stood under the sky on a dark black beach a million miles from everything. All of them are from nights when I was becoming myself. Some I know I would barely remember. Half of these moons are at the top of the left mountain, and half on top of the right. Then they all come down. Some roll slowly, not noticing the others, some come violently crashing. But all are headed for the valley. They meet at the bottom, and just melt into eachother. I'm not sure how, but they form a quiet silvery river. The river fills the width of the valley, and I'm laying at the bottom. Not in a scary way, I don't seem to need to breathe. I am swallowed by the things that are me, and yet I know I am more. I don't know what I'll swim into, I can't do that yet. I just feel the bottom against the side of my face, my toes, and my hip bones, I let myself sink into it a little, let the water swallow me, though I know its not enough to lay in forever.

I've been living inside of this feeling.

Molt:

a. to cast or shed the feathers, skin, or the like, that will be replaced by a new growth.

b. to cast or shed (feathers, skin, etc.) in the process of renewal

I am both renewed and new. In some moments, I run with my change. In others, I let it leave me tossed in its wake.

I can feel it.

I am losing so much.

I know I am strong enough, but that doesn't mean I want to feel that loss.

The speed of it is what scares me.

I've been living inside of this feeling.