I've had insomnia off and on since I was 10. Usually due to too many ideas swirling around in my mind. A proverbial spin cycle. Not always good, nor always bad. But after all that spinning, I would snatch the hour or two of sleep and awaken dizzy to my bones. These days (or should I say nights) it might be due to thoughts regarding a rehearsal or a script. A writing deadline or a snarky character in a story that won't present himself. Or, more recently, worry about my mum. Working and re-working all the variables and possibilities. But this isn't a story I am writing. I don't know what to expect around the next corner.
This morning was another dizzy morning. Deeper than my bones. I know there will be more. But my heart is swollen with love for my mum today. Stretching past all the old scar-tissue of heart ache and break.
This morning I watered my mum's garden while she coached from the side-lines, careful to do it just so.
This morning we laughed at the antics of her cat without the inevitable wince of pain in her eyes.
This morning I am exactly where I am meant to be. Dizzy or no.
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