Slow Motion

I’m doing another weekend (Monday-Tuesday) fast, and enjoying it more than last time. This time I’m allowing herb tea, I’ve popped a couple aspirin when the headaches come on, and I bought an extra six-pack of bubbly water.

Most of the good effects come later, but already I’m sort of enjoying some time to sit around reading. It’s like staying home sick without having to get sick. The light-weight jobs get done in their sweet time. The houseplants in need all got repotted yesterday, and now I’m about to clean out my desk. With the sudden extra room in our house, I can put all the tarot decks and art supplies elsewhere and dedicate a couple more drawers in the desk to writing stuff.

I just took a walk down to the botanical gardens, mostly to sniff around the rose garden, and it’s like I’m in this heavenly altered state. Everything is sharp and clear, flower colors and bird sounds and the smell of splashing water. The walk tired me out, so I sat on a rock-slab bench in the shade, near a fountain. Usually I’m so bad at sitting still. But at low-energy fasting place, sitting is fine. The humid, rosy air and the warbling, bouncing children all passed over this passive version of me.

A thunderstorm is blowing in, slowly. All is quiet and happy.

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