Fluffy Cow Socks

In this dream she's curled up in a cabin in the woods. It is cold and misty outside there too. Hot Cinnamon Sunset tea and enough daylight to bask in the nature that surrounds. Staring off into space, a blank look in her eyes, her mind is bustling.

Deciding on new dreams, new goals, contemplating what the future holds. This time from a place of love, genuine curiosity, and hope. 

Longing and desperation and “what ifs” are drowned out with every next inch of rainfall. That headspace no longer serves her even though its a battle everyday to keep it at bay. Prayers and meditation and faith in God’s plan bring her back over the bridge to optimism. 

This is where she sits. In a gaze. Her mind at war, but she’s winning. 

Fixed between two scenes:

The wonder of what wind would look like if it was visible. Leaves leaning this way and that. None of the raindrops fall straight down. Some drip north, some west. Each on their own little journey as the sky cries. Some tears of joy, others not. Drop by drop, nourishing mother earth in the precise way she needs to thrive. 

Inside, such a contrast. Just past her nose, steam floats up. Swirling in the atmosphere from her too hot tea. Droplets condensing between her hands and the lucky mug they are wrapped around. An oversized sweater but silk pajama shorts on purpose so she can feel the plush gentle blanket encompass her clean shaven freshly moisturized limbs. On her feet, fluffy cow socks - just because.

Beyond the chaise that holds her in a way it might have well been custom built to her specifications then perfectly worn to her shape…. The fireplace crackles. Flames dancing, sometimes raging, sometimes only a whisper. The mystery of what the embers will produce keeps her fascination fixed to the point of momentarily muting her thoughts all together. 

Euphoria.

Minutes feel like hours but hours like seconds all at once. 

Time doesn’t exist at this cabin in the woods. At least not until she decides that it does.