I feel like I am waking from a long slumber in some respects.
Not physically. Physically, I am a wasteland of of insomniac damage. I audibly groaned when my alarm went off this morning and I could quite readily go to bed right now and sleep for hours. I was up most of the night with my thoughts and my chronic pain and my body craves sleep, although I should be focusing on work (and I’m writing personal revelations instead).
Physically, I’m a wreck.
But there is a part of me that lighting up like a suburban Christmas tree owned by an electrical engineer with far too much time on his hands and a perchance for rock songs (or Manheim, shudder) and synchronized light displays. I’m lighting up in a number of ways that I can’t explain and it feels like I’ve been asleep or on a very, very long vacation away from home and the welcoming committee has pulled out all stops in celebrating my return. That’s the best I can describe it — honest.
And the feeling is growing over time. It’s a gradual process of shaking off the slumber: first the sunlight warms, then crosses my face as I nap my lengthy nap in a hypothetical bed, I blink and stretch. Then the tingling and need to stretch comes in as the sun warms me more and the muscles ask my how I could let them atrophy, become mere strands of meat instead of lean sinew and raw strength. I apologize and shake the fluff from my head, not sure where/who I am, and I yearn for the Minnesota snows that bury us as they do every year at this time to recede and free up the trees so I can walk amongst my brethren, touch the bark with meager flesh, feel the lifeforce coursing through me as raven’s cousins, the crows, chat me up.
There are the rituals of my past that come to mind, but I’ve increasingly felt that ritual is putting an artificial barrier between me and… whatever you want to call it — spirit? It works as well as any other word, which are all the wrong ones anyway. So I think — no, no rituals… You jump in the ice-water flow of being, or you mime jumping in. One is experience, the other for the risk adverse.
What am I trying to say? Nothing really — I’m just trying to relate this familiar strange feeling that I haven’t felt in decades and the aching desire to delve into the depths of whatever it is.