Eating Air
Ed was a great dog; he still is I think. Some man took him and as far as I know he is still alive but it’s been just over 5 weeks since I last saw him. I remember weird little snippets, like pictorial lighting strikes at random times throughout the day. When he rode in the back of the truck he would poke his head around the driver’s side of the cab and I would watch him in my side mirror as he raised his head up, sniffing the wind as we traveled, opening and closing his mouth as if he were eating air. Moments like that make me wish I were a dog. I could ride in the back, eating air or I could roll in the grass for no reason, just rolling.
Ed and his ‘eating air’ makes me think of other fleeting but pleasurable moments—experiencing things on a visceral level and wanting so badly to hold on to the moments, yet knowing they will continue flowing down river. When my niece Elle’ comes running to me and hugs my legs, when I pick her up and she hugs me so tight around my neck I can barely breath; I simply say to her “Elle’ hugs are the best hugs ever!” and feel my heart wishing for the moment to last—or to be consumed like Ed’s air. Skye, Elle’s little sister, has gotten to the age that she too will run, bow-legged and shaky the way babies do, and stand in front of me reaching up, up, high as she can until I scoop her up for hugs. She rubs her head against the side of my face and then rests on my chest, listening to the vibrations as I tell her how much I love her. These moments happen frequently, yet the ‘coming down’ from each one feels desolate and I can’t help but try to hold the moments as long as possible. I suppose I’d sooner be able to grab a fistful of water from the river then to stop it from carrying on.
I have considered the possibility that we are only supposed to have these feelings in flashes or moments. They way the heart feels ready to burst, the tuning out of all other things for that one flash of being ‘high’ on the feelings. If it were too frequent or too easy to capture and hold these things, would they lessen in effect or value, or would the heart truly fill to the point of exploding? Perhaps we hang on to dying or dead relationships in our lives because of the memories of the moments that feel so right and fulfilling. But, when a relationship is destructive and we cling to a life preserver built of the scarce moments of love and security, the bad begins to drown the good. The life preserver is ruptured over the rocky rapids of anger, rage, abuse and hatred. I did it… I’ve been there, desperately grasping at the rushing waters of life passing by, attempting to grab a fist-full of the moments that felt good, tasted sweet. I kept plunging my hands into the waters as they turned icy and began to foam and swirl toward the falls; my skin became pale and wrinkled— but my hand always returned empty, wearing only the wet remnants of what was… the past.
The present is the water touching your banks right now. The future is still up river, around the bend, touching other banks on the way to yours. The way I see it, we have to look directly at the waters present. We cannot capture it or attempt to cling to it but swim in it instead. Let it touch the skin, the heart—let it quench the parched lips that survived without trying to grab a fist-full and holding it close. Eating air may seem silly but it is in the now; splashing in the river at our feet is in the now. The river will keep flowing and with the good moments, the bad will go away. After all, air doesn’t come in doggies bags…why try to grab a fistful of water?
Read more: http://authspot.com/thoughts/eating-air/#ixzz1E93vlodJ
