6th
midnight
dusk is lingering over downtown and I can see it from my apartment…. I can also see the ocean. I am in a room alone for my first time in days and I just set the record for the most hugs I have ever received in one day. What is it about hugs that feels so fantastic? Why when you have an admiration for someone does the act of clinging to them and snuggling into their chest feel like a glimpse of heaven (if there is one) When I left Utah hugging my fellow co-workers felt uncomfortable. There were a few that I hugged because they initiated and I couldn’t help but wonder how long it would last and when it was socially acceptable to pull away, while today I just nuzzled in and hoped that by gripping them I could somehow absorb a bit of their fantastic-ness through osmosis. If I hold them tight enough maybe a bit of them will seep into me. I know this is terribly silly but I’m feeling a little overwhelmed by the fact that the act of hugging has morphed over the course of a week and a half from an awkward obligation into how souls touch base…. my mind wants to catch up and ask about adventures but my body and my heart is content with an embrace and honestly more satisfied. Eckhart Tolle is messing with my head. Suddenly the magic of a physical manifestation is more meaningful than a long conversation….. the moral of this story is…. don’t tumble drunk???
Or perhaps the reason I began writing this out is because i am very grateful for the outpour of love that has suddenly come my way. Old friends. new friends. I can’t recall a time when I felt the equivalent. A part of me believes that by acknowledging this and being grateful for it I can thus be worthy of it, but I doubt that’s how it works. Instead i think i am just incredibly lucky
