a cow is mooing in the distance

I used to get a lot of alone time. I used to sit and stare and carry things and read and cook and think and read and plan and reflect and basically do very little for extended periods of time.

I could be alone inside and outside and in town and even when I was working there was quiet time when I just sat and thought about anything I chose. From my house I could usually hear the ocean, and if it was out I heard the refrigerator hum, the magpies on the roof, maybe a car passing.

It is different now. The house is never empty. I suddenly notice when silence happens, it is deafening here. I wake up in the middle of the night realizing the power has gone out and the fan is off and everything is black and silent. I can hear myself breathe and my heart beat.

Then something happens and the crickets begin again and a dog barks and a horn sounds in the distance and I’m brought right back here. This place is so strong. I am always moving, being dragged in 100 directions by everyone’s wants and needs.

From the moment I wake up until the time I go horizontal, I am planning for other people and weighing their concerns and my concerns and the groups concerns and the organizations concerns and what concerns we all may have in the future. Assessing how all of those line up and which ones should be acted on in what order is perpetual.

Each day through the choices I make, I am increasing or decreasing the amount of easy or hard work for myself in the future. This is always the case, but here it is somehow amplified. Like I’m doing everything for the first time and those impressions are the most important. Being diplomatic all the time is exhausting.

Now I talk and I work and I write emails and lists and lists about what I’m going to write in emails. I am always listening to dream re-enactments and other people’s to do lists and trying to figure out what someone is saying in another language. Now I am always right here in this present moment actively making decisions.