Barefooted In Potatoes : A Blog Flashback

Blog flashback from May 22, 2006:

Even I can’t deny my life has been stressful these days.

I set out bare foot to walk the dusty edge of the potato field. The plants slightly wilt in the evening sun, even they are weary of their daily life. Waiting desperately for the sun to go away so they can relax in the darkness. I run my hands across the tops of them as I walk along, in an act of sympathy.

The packed dried soil is scattered with tractor tire impressions. Like the traces of my smile these days. I wonder if the deep frown under my happy expressions are as faint as the tire marks. Or is it just the opposite, is it my smile that is unrecognizable lately?

The path veers north between a cornfield. The sun warms my skin and even feels like it seeps into my soul that has turned so cold over time. If it was only easy as the return of the heated months. I fear it’s not the answer though.

I make it to the end of the field and stop. Stop and close my eyes and try to let go of myself. To remember who I was. How things were when my life followed a smoother rhythm. When the answer to every question was found in my daily life. There was no question that I couldn’t find the answer to right there.

My thoughts go silent.

I breath in. I breath out. I breath in. I breath out.

A pair of Canada Geese fly overhead speaking in a language I don’t understand. What do their honks mean?

I need to remember what I love. The things I have forgotten exist.

I love Canada Geese. I love honeysuckle. I love ladybugs. I love the smell of rain. I love shooting stars. I love the way sand feels. I love the way salt water smells. Even the way it taste. I love the way the sky looks when you are looking up from underwater. I love the smell of a bonfire. I love climbing trees. I love walking through mud puddles. I love watching robins look for bugs. I love watching fish swim near the shallow banks in ponds. I love the way tadpoles grow. I love finding blackberries growing along the woods. I love reading old tombstones. I love seeing my breath in the winter. I love eating icicles. I love tiger lilies and daffodils. I love the smell of a tomato plant’s leaves. I love listening to frogs sing late at night.

I love taking deep breaths and taking a minute to remember I am alive and I am human.

I love. I am not as dead on the inside as other’s think. Not even as much as I think. I am alive. I love. There are still simple things that make me happy. I refuse to be complex. I refuse to look over the little things that make my daily life incredible. I refuse to let myself die on the inside.

I am alive. I love.

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