The idea of something that feels right, is not unlike the feeling that it is the easiest thing in the world and that it comes first nature.
Not breathless, unhurried, not anxious, uncalculating, the opposite of ‘neither here nor there’ because I am exactly where I want to be.
When I am with him, it is also a sleepy feeling. I am a cat, who is curled up and purring. Watching the world hurry by, peering through half closed eyelids with a bit of disdain –I pity the world. It surely envies my state of bliss and utter content. It surely wishes it were me, cuddled up with the cat, watching Frasier and munching on a bag of cheese nacho tortilla chips.
When I am at work, on a good day, it is a feeling of purpose. It is more typing, and less deleting. More ideas, less sighing. It is looking up at the watch and seeing that the day has gone by, but also that I have pages written. After rereading them, I am satisfied and look forward to when my break will end so that I can continue. The stage is mine, I am at my forte. No further questions. My nose flares a bit, and on occasion I am tempted to physically pat myself on the back. I can’t believe they pay me for this.
When I am at home, by myself, it is a feeling of desired solitude. I am awash with gratitude, while preparing my breakfast of smoked salmon draped over cheese melting on poached egg resting on a generous spread of avocado on golden toast after a cold morning run. I am cooking with Frasier playing in the background, and I am not missing anyone, not even him. I have a good book that I have yet to finish reading, and I look forward to reading it until I fall asleep.
But the greatest comfort I have grasped onto lately, is the day after tonight.
It is most uncomfortable at night, when the sun is gone, the air is cold, and I am surrounded by pictures and letters preserving memories of old and wonderful friends, places I called home and haunts, memorialized on a desk in a room, in an apartment, in a city where I have no friends at all — a place where I only have Carter Beats the Devil to keep me company (and I am already nearing the end of the book).
My comfort comes in the morning’s promise. The morning says another day has gone by, and I have scraped through. The morning promises a new day, a day full of possibilities. It is now a day closer, to when I will be exactly where I want to be.
Feature image is ‘Sunrise, Bagan, Burma’ by Robert Coles.