In today’s Reverb 10 prompt, I have been instructed to choose a moment in which I felt most alive, and to describe it.
Saturday, November 19th
On my first afternoon off in more than two years, I say a reassuring “see you in a bit” to my toddler-son, kiss my husband, and set off alone. My bag, emptied of diapers, wipes, sippy cups, and snacks, feels unnaturally light. I walk to the bus. I don’t have to worry about whether we’ll make it on time, or whether I will end up at the bus stop with seconds to spare, breathless and sweaty from running with a 35-pound boy in my arms. I walk, head held high, not bending down to hold anyone’s hand. I walk with long, quick strides through the chilly grey afternoon.
On the bus, settling in for the long ride downtown, I settle down with a book. But within 30 seconds I realize that I don’t want to read…I just want to sit and soak in the peace and blessed solitude that my soul has craved for so long. I sit. I breathe. The bus ride is one long meditation as I inhale and exhale, listen to the hum of the motor, and watch as passengers enter and leave my small, solitary kingdom. Solitary, but not isolated. And even before I get downtown I feel noticeably healed. Every step I take seems to bring me closer to myself…not to the me I used to be, but to the me I’ve become…the one who was drowning…the one who already feels saved.