Too Many Stations

Tonight, I channel-surfed for over three hours to avoid feeling. Best I could do. I'm in a hotel room in another city. Presented today at a workshop and did well. Not the point. Since arriving yesterday, have been acutely aware that no one was waiting for me to call after I checked in. Now, similarly aware that, tomorrow, no one is waiting for me to get home. My housemates will be glad to see me. Not her, "that special someone," as some writers in the online ads say. Isn't there. Isn't here. Isn't in the television.

The Great Health

The great health. Valor. Rare humor. And resilience. (Nietzsche)

On the Sparrow

In my mother's Bible, she scrawled on a scrap of paper the words to the hymn made legend by Ethel Waters, "His Eye is on the Sparrow." Why should I feel discouraged and why should the shadows come [...] His eye is on the sparrow, and I know he watches me. Bumpy ride with a medication this week. The doc raised an antidepressant. I rose out of the first turn then dropped again. He raised the same med. I said to him on the phone, "I'm riding over the top." Was up for almost two days. With an extra med to help me sleep, finally slept last night. But woke up today with a med hangover - for want of a better word. I am out of rhythm and afraid from a well of what feels like centuries of experience I won't get back into rhythm again. Went to the circus the night I stopped sleeping, and one of the acts was a woman pretending to be a wind-up acrobat. She was flipped over and over by another, more burly acrobat. Front to back. Front to back. A finality to it, an inevitability. Familiar.