En Absentia

"Don't walk behind me; I may not lead. Don't walk in front of me; I may not follow. Just walk beside me and be my friend." -Albert Camus

At least once a day, get up and walk. Explain nothing. Let your entire surroundings become alien and foreign. The removal of remembrance, discard attachment to anything within sight. Gaze upon each for the first time or the semblance of such. In observance I was granted a sense of something bigger than myself. Something moving and voice far off with a desire to act conjoined in decisiveness beyond my immediate selfishness.

Drinking the dark coffee, limits obscured. Longing that such darkness was the dirt along a pre-dawn hike. Everything seems to be defined by motion, direction and inertia. The perceived need is a trace, trade and track of Buddhist of detachment, though it is not my nature.

Three days ago:

Resting against my high-backed chair, I feel more brutal than in past moments
my shirt is sleek and defines my arms as reaching weapons. Staring out the window I see the swaying crane, building a nest of commerce.

In these darkened moments of reflection, looking beyond this semblance of humanism to reach for the desired stoic posture. The fine line between the breaths of the realm. The restless movements and thunderclaps and being a slave to any cue which flaps against the head. Wisdom helps distinguish.

I tilt my head down and rest my hand against my jaw in readiness.