Legs laid low on the sofa – what a gift, I can cancel and cancel,
Clear the diary, simplify the day – simplify life,
Losing the detail instead of being lost in the detail,
Just the throb in my temples.
Eyes closed – physical disorientation but mental clarity. I’m brought to a tender halt of gentleness and clarity,
From this sofa I know what’s important and I let go of what isn’t.
The constant hum of the Westway reminds me of the breakneck world out there,
But I’ve got permission to not move
Meeting – cancelled
Work – abandoned
Plans – scratched
I’m not in a state of ecstasy, just in a state of contented beingness and timelessness,
My body has brought me to meekness,
And here I am on the sofa on a Tuesday afternoon, blessed and inheriting the earth
Memories of days off from school – Pigeon Street, my mother bringing me snacks,
Now an experience of Being that would have been out of reach had my working day gone to plan.
What is this migraine? A whisper from the beloved:
This migraine came to tell me one thing: “I love you”
Tom Charles @tomhcharles