Day FourtyThree

Strange how a place that feels like home can be an empty home at times.

We go to the coast area and find a calm spot on the rocks to sit, and write, 

and reload, and refresh.

Sarah brought her note book and I brought mine.

I have no intention of writing but carry it with me just in case the inspiration comes.

I lie down on the rocks

at a spot that seems carved like a sofa

and I let the sun rays

and salty particles in the air

sit on me.

I close my eyes and feel whole.

In my body, in my mind 

and in connection 

to others.

It was nice to feel comfortable in just being around someone again.

There is so much expectation and movement at the hostel some times that you forget the kind of form you take around few.

I think of going,

I think of staying

I think of options 

then I think of the only one choice

.to live.

I open my eyes just in time.

Sarah has completed her passage and I sit up,

take my nuts from my bag and listen to her story.

I come across a very green pistachio and I take a picture while she's still reading

while I'm still listening

while I'm still living.