the yellow roses edged with red need their stems cut if they are to last a few more days, i wash my hair in the kitchen sink after removing the debris, apply a hair mask and slap on a plastic shower cap from some hotel, my morning already not going as planned, i haven’t meditated and prayed and after i do, reread my journal entrees from january taking note of words pictures ideas other people’s writings that i want to remember.
not sure what i now wish to or will finally do today, 60 minutes have gone by and i must rinse my hair, jump out of bed, dropping my taupe fleece robe to the ground as i step to the bathroom to shower and as i approach the door, the darkness draws me under the arch, my hands going not to the switch but to the medicine cabinet where i take matches from its shelf, strike and light the lavender eucalyptus candle in a jar, place it on the back ledge of the tub, close the door to shut out the morning and breathe.
i take a moment to dry brush my body in silence before turning on the shower, stepping in and drawing the white curtain behind me, stand in the glow of the flickering candle, shadows dancing on the wall, the warm water washing over my hair and down my body, the tea tree mask i had massaged into my hair an hour ago running into the drain and suddenly the experience begins to type before and now notes in my head, the day i had planned cascading off my calendar as quickly as the cream from my crown.
i notice the distinct difference in this small space without the whirring of the overhead exhaust fan covered with dust that i’ve yet to stand on something so i can reach up to clean it, a stillness beneath the wet beads and there in the glimmer a profile of ample curves appears on the canvas of tiles in front of me and i panic wondering if i will remember all this yet not wishing to rush bathing in this quiet cocoon of an unplanned escape.
"maybe i should begin reading the prior month of my journal at the beginning of each month rather than waiting until jan 1 to read the year prior," i think, record the thought and return to cleansing, turn the shower off and so embraced am i by the hush of the moment that i don’t move letting it wash over me before opening the curtains to step into a lush fog billowing all around because the door was closed.
moving the candle to the vanity, i pat myself dry and begin the slathering ritual starting with my face, i note the steaminess of the room is adding a yummy moisture to my skin, a suppleness felt beneath my fingers tips not found when the light is on, door open allowing the mist to escape.
body amply lubricated, i wrap damp hair in the fuchsia yellow violet and white paisley scarf i failed to put away a day or so ago and think “whatever”, I crack the door and cool air seeps in then rushes over me as i step back into the morning to find my laptop to get this all down and as i type, wonder if these words are as poetic as they felt when they began typing notes in my head as the water fell.
Take some time to be aware of every little thing as it happens and…
keep your peepers open!
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