From a 10 minute assignment to, “Write a scene using the following words: numb, blackberry, forget, yoga, button.”
Her lips took on the hue of blackberries, and she felt the familiar wash of peace with a hint of giddiness. She knew the loud, persistent monologue would return with its reprimands, but for now, it was silent. Its source, numb.
Now, she could forget for awhile.
She would wait, each day. She would wait through the panic and the sadness until the blessed button could be pressed.
If there were rules, it was somehow less bad. All of it.
Of course, there was another way. She knew that. But it took far more effort. More grit. More determination than she could muster in the moment.
Yoga had healed her before. Granted wisdom, grounding, peace. Until life had derailed her practice. She’d let it.
Now, she lay awake nights, setting intentions, trying to uncover the chutzpah she knew was needed – that strength that had, once, mysteriously appeared when she called it from her deepest depths.
For now, though, in this moment, the simple solution offered a few hours of happiness. Shadowed, maybe, but comforting, nonetheless, that happiness could exist in her, with the blackberry stained lips, corners upturned.