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Sacred Space

Alarm promptly beeped at 4:30am instead of jumping up to my typical Monday beat my left-hand rest on my chest. Right rubs the spot where my hubby finds his peace where I wrap my legs around him until the heat parts us, and we are left entangling our feet until it is time for him to go. The rhythmic beating of my heart lulled me into a moment of thought. My hand became a weight too heavy for my chest to bare, sliding my palms under my body, I pushed up to a seated position. Today’s run was not going to be about time, speed, endurance, or photo opportunities, today was sacred. Whatever energy I exchanged with the Universe was going to be an intimate conversation. Some runs do different things for the mental and physical, today was about falling into Mother and asking the question humans have no answers for, digging my soles into the soil and rooting my inner voice.

4:50 am. My alarm diligently reminds me that time is ticking, and there is much to accomplish before the Sun finds the sandman and my babies are wide-eyed. So much has left them unsure of this world in a short time. I fight the urge to wake them, hug them, assure them mommy and daddy are here. Shake those thoughts by stretching my body. Close my eyes, we are in the car, date night and I swear I look like Queen, yet Slim does not survive his encounter with the police this time, my night terror found me mid-stretch. Blinking it out my mind until Joy plays a fonder memory. We are dancing in the rain, the weather is humid, our clothes stick to us as if we are drenched in honey, we are far too drunk. Rum and coke coat our breath, I salsa his way, he pulls me in close, “I love you. I will always love you.” A grin escapes my lips, my heart flutters, and I find my breath again.

5:15 am. Yes, yes, I know I am behind. Deep breath, body on autopilot, clothes on, teeth brushed, fanny pack in tack, no time for meditation. Maybe there is, but I am not sure I can empty these thoughts sitting quietly. Grab my Keys, look at Storm, and she seems to understand mom has to do this alone. Kiss my girls, tell my son I’m going, I quickly come back, pressing my ear to his door like a mother does her infant listening for life, knock again, tell him I love him. I love him like air, I worry for him more since he hit his growth spurt. He is the encapsulation of love, but some can’t see what is right in front of them. Fear once again tries to find me, I refuse its seductive gestures, find the door lock my precious treasure safely inside, and the trail calls become louder and louder. Here I come.

6:00 am. I stand at the beginning of the trail. The moment before my front foot takes the momentum, I whisper, “Let it go here, today is sacred.”

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