Canyon Shakedown

I can only conclude that divorce is good for the blood pressure. It measured 112/77 at the dentist's office yesterday. To top it off my nasty little gum pockets in between my teeth had all reduced in size. I've slept like a baby for two nights in a row with no dreams that I recall. I've awakened fresh to fight my demons. Yes, there's a war going on 'tween body and soul. Soul says I'm sending you out to some rough rock cliffs to do battle as the body says, 'yes and you will feel good and rested and never look better!'

I was utterly alone on yesterday's new moon hike into the sandstone canyons, on what could only be called a death march. I climbed down to a east facing sun-soaked ledge that i might sit and hear the voices of the ancients. But there were none. No signs, either. I was left to dangle in the shadow of my own repeating loops. I sat. Waiting. My new pair of Nikon binocs in my hand and not a bird showed up. It was akin to spirit's big 'fuck you.' I sat beneath a raven-less sky. Reached for my journal and stared out into the silence for what felt like eons. Then I scribbled:

all the words and birds
all the photos
and orgasms
come to
nothing.

me. nothing. I stared down the canyon of the ancients, a narrow ribbon of water snaking through her cleft. My desperate eyes sought the prints of the bare footed children who once roamed these haunted passages. My ears sought cries, laughter, any proof of life once lived. There was only the wind.

That's where my mind was was as I sat in the dentist's chair and received the good news. It wasn't the numbers that surprised me. My BP has always been low and I've never taken regular prescription meds. What humbled me was my response. That I was so damned happy. Spirit had dragged my sorry ass along that canyon floor and any good news would do.

I want my groove back. To rise like the sun, full of fierce beauty. Yes, I know. It will take more time and tears. But my my teeth are clean. I'm ready.