Bridges

Last night there was the bridge over the river into Brownville in my dream. The river was tremendous and blue and lovely. It was more peaceful than terrifying, though there was a moment, as I drove onto the bridge that I was very afraid. The fear left, as I knew it had to, in order for me to get across. There was another bridge, sometime later, and it was incredible and long and as I drove across it, it became ever more steep so that I was driving almost straight up, and for a moment I was not sure I ought to be leaning forward as I was and then I reached the top of that one safely as well.

I wrote of bridges yesterday and still have many to cross. Perhaps the imagery will stick with me for a while. Perhaps I just read Ex Machina too recently and find that I am curious, I do not know.

Very simple yoga practice last night. I warmed up my spine and then meditated for a short while. Change is an invisible event, it must be approached sideways and gently and persistently and eventually you become aware that it has happened, but it is not for a very long time that it is possible to look back and see where and how it happened. Note: I do not include traumatic change, like physical injury or illness or falling in love or becoming a parent or theatre.

Today finds me unsettled and out of peace with much. Not cranky or disheartened, just not at my best or brightest. I will drink toddy and eat soda bread and approach the day gently, ever ready for a good warm hug if I need it. I think I will stay in instead of wandering about as I’ve been doing. I’ve an appointment this evening, and then I’ll probably head back home and be warm in my own space some more.

The wind is frightful and the sun is strong. I’ve to open the windows soon for the little ones, they are in need of a good long breath of fresh strong air.