It is a very hot day. I feel annoyed, not by anything in particular, but a sense of things not being quite what I want in this life. I follow directions that are incorrectly given, and yet I wind up right where I have to be. I go my usual way and go about my usual routine in my Meg like way, and that is okay at least that is what I tell myself. I hear sardonic snickering, I look around and think who is that laughing? Who are you. What do you find so disdainful?
The lot is deserted and the deer flies are pestering biting leaving painful places. My broken foot hurts on the walk. I sit in the tree house and I am sweating. I try to get into it but no my mind is elsewhere, my body is not even really there. I disassociate, I think get me out of here. As I walk this path I see things I have never seen, things I do not understand, and things that I have seen before, and things that are poignant. I stop and sit on a bench. I am alone. I am silent. I am thinking it is so quiet here. I love it. An external voice says, it is too quiet here. It is not too quiet here. It is just right. And then I realize that it is my voice, on the inside there is not quiet and therefore I am not in synch. I want the quiet in both places, internal external.
I am sitting on a bench, a rich and deliciously oily slice of whole wheat garlic pizza with fresh tomatoes and gooey mozzarella cheese. I find myself imagining myself as a watcher, I see in windows, I see across crowded rooms, I see through a stand of aspen, I see nothing, I see everything. Wholesome. Yes that is the word, wholesome. I look down and my slice of pizza is a cheap ass frozen pizza covered in Lowry’s seasoned salt, it tastes gross in my mouth. I put it down, I am nauseous. Wholesome. Wholesome. Wholesome is what I crave.
Later in my bed, I think, I am going back and this time I am going it alone.
Yes I am a strong woman. Yes I am a capable woman. Yes I am a wholesome woman.
I want to sculpt myself from the inside.