1. intention or purpose.
2. resolved or determined to do (something).
3. (esp. of a look) showing earnest and eager attention.
I picked up Kor and we headed to Hacklebarney Park. two to three days a week, this had become part of our personal ritual. Kor was someone who I met via a lover, but our friendship quickly eclipsed that relationship in its importance. He taught Kung-Fu and Tai-Chi at a local martial arts studio and had a good time living life in a way that I always envied. He was always in perpetual motion, with 2 to 15 plans/scams/otherwise unspecified goings on, up in the air. Yet that wasn’t what our time together was about.
I am excellent at doing nothing; or more accurately I am an excellent person to hang out with if you can never sit still. I lend myself towards books being read under trees, coffee at the kitchen table and long walks with no goal in mind. I think the part I played for Kor was quiet but necessary. My relationships have always been the one on one type, insular but passionate. What’s the point if it’s not passionate? Our friendship was a seperate thing from the rest of our lives, taking up morning before we got a chance to mess up the rest.
Kor and I drove out to the park, found a spot and began our trek down the path. There are a few paths but we normally took the steep rocky stairs down, across the little bridge and started parallel to the Trout creek. One day we decided to walk the creek bed instead and Kor showed me how to jump the slippery stones. It really wasn’t any kind of fair, he practiced Kung-Fu and taught Tai-Chi! He better have some balance…
He said it was all about intention, connecting one step to another without so much thinking, choosing and fear.He said you can’t fear the next step or what will happen if you miss it, you just have to take the leap and then the next. I went from wet feet to sure footing when I actually listened and took his advice. He knew I needed it this morning. Balance.
We ended up at the Black River where the creek met the deeper faster water, and hiked its banks until we found a spot that suited. We sat crossed legged in the sunshine and breathed in, breathed out and tried to find center. This is what we were good at together, the quiet places in between the breaths. My life was a mess, filled with fools and my own bad choices and it was beginning to wear on me. Center seemed so far away from where I was.
I had just received an envelope with pictures of The Boy and a letter about what was going on up in Maine. They sent these packages regularly and I both longed for them and feared their coming. Pictures of naked kids in tubs out in the yard, pumpkin picking, and quiet moments at home. Words about milestones, dance classes and performances. The words and images crashed together inside of me like a tempest while I tried to breathe, tried to not worry about choices, my broken heart and the chains that bound me to a life I wasn’t a part of. I kept trying to breathe and leap without fear.