some active reactions....
I rarely consider all of my senses at one time. Yeah, I realize I need cooling down in the heat of anger, literally. I absolutely detest the listening to a radio that you can barely hear. I can't bear the smell of turkey baking, and I hate touching the bottom of a murky lake with a bare foot, so much so, that I wear Teva's while I swim.
But the good stuff is just bliss. Especially when they come with the right memories.
Today, the smell of chlorine is strong in my apartment. Kole and I spent over 2 hours swimming at the Y. I didn't want to go. It was such a chore making myself bring her. I'm convinced that if I end up sick, it's due to the contaminated kiddie pool water. No matter how much chlorine you dump in it, it still doesn't convince me that the number of kids that go there on a Saturday, don't often relieve themselves in that warm, crowded pool. But, when finally made it in, it was great. I'm surprised at how much she's grown since the summer. How well she can swim. And how I remember bringing her to that very pool for the first time as a toddler. I remember her clinging to me, being shy around everyone else, and how the water curled her black hair just so. And it was great to feel her clinging onto me today, because, she doesn't really need to now. She can swim on her own. But somehow those memories of closeness must have been remembered by her, because we spent more time cuddling in the water, than we have in a long time. Our bathing suits are hanging on the curtain rod, and the towels are on the backs of the kitchen chairs. And the smell of chlorine isn't harsh but simply beautiful.
I got a beep on my phone from the answering service, reminding me the the current message saved was going to be deleted. It played it. It was his voice. Even though we are 'just' friends, it still made me smile to hear his laugh from a week ago.
I am listening to nothing but the sound of my fingers tapping on the keyboard. If I'm in love at all, it's that I'm in love with words. Rearranging them to suit my needs, to reflect my wants and desires. To try and create beauty and express understanding. To try and let go some of what is in my mind, and to see it reflected back in my writing.
I see evidence of a life lived when I look around this room. I see my daughter's drawings, and toys dropped in mid-play. I see pictures of my family and friends, books savoured over, and a messiness that reflects our often hectic lifestyle. I could spend more time cleaning, but frankly, I like our slovenly home. Its chaoticness is more comforting than a sterile, untouched room where you are not allowed to play or relax, or feel free.
I taste the sweet taste of happiness in a moment of complete awareness of my life.