Memoir 12

The people are on the elephants going up the hill to feed the cats. I am in the parking lot and I can see that the elephants started running into each other. I don’t want the trainer to get mad so I hike up the mountain to let the trainer know it wasn’t the elephants fault. There’s a man dressed like a sikh. I can’t see where I’m going so I stop at a house on the way. A little girl answers and says she’ll go ask her dad if the trail leads to the elephants. Then I notice the door is locked in front of me. So I hike up the trail. The sikh is doing yoga on the ground and the elephants are walking back down with the people on them.

Jay explained about his lucid dream while waking to me placing my hand on his heart. Then he softly falls back into the ebb and flow of snoring.

I explain to him that I was falling asleep last night to ideas of showing compassion and practicing kindness so we’re in sync.

I sit in the silence, the heater humming softly behind my back.The wind chimes drift in and out of focus—small melodies breaking apart with each passing gust.

Lil Bit rests at my left foot, her fur brushing lightly against my skin, a quiet reminder of something living, something present.

I check on you.Your deep breaths guide you somewhere I cannot follow.

The bitter trace of grape juice lingers on my tongue from breakfast—sweetness turned faint, almost forgotten.

And still, everything feels suspended here.

It’s Earth Day—a day to feel gratitudefor water,for fresh vegetables,for fruit blended into something alive.

Root your bare fingers into some soiland let the earth settle beneath your fingernails.

To celebrate lifenot loudly,but with intention.

With kindness.With compassion.With the simple act of being here.