Thread

There are days like today when I sense that I hang from a single thread. And that thread stretches from the sky to the top of my head, and it hums with every move I make, like a guitar string being strummed. And there are times, like the present moment in my life, when that string is untangled to any other string, and I am free.

And I don’t feel this thread when I’m sick. I don’t feel it when I have money in my pockets for shopping. I don’t feel it when it when others are around to pull me in their directions. I don’t feel it when lust is burning in my heart. I most definitely do not feel it when the TV is on. And I don’t feel it when my mind tries to tell me to hold tight to any particular creed or ideology or school of philosophy.

But I feel it now. Slightly abuzz with Budweiser and the music of Cyndi Lauper, Johnny Rivers, the Chiffons, TV on the Radio, KC and the Sunshine Band, and Laurie Anderson. I feel it now the way my dog must feel it when he’s chasing a ball or running free.

The thread is pulling me up. It’s making me dance in my living room with my pants off. It’s making me feel like conquering the world I’ve already vanquished in my head.