Visceral

Been thinking a lot about "visceral" stuff as of late. With all of the life/death/life up in my face the last week, I have chosen to be conscious about being alive, about what is going on in the guts of me.

My good friend is dying... the above video is in honor of her. According to her quiet reveal to me last night, it should be sometime Wednesday. I feel sad to see her go and oh so happy to have spent so much time with her over the last week. I feel blessed.

As I got ready to type this post, the Carpenters came on the stereo with Rainy Days and Mondays. It is one of my most favorite songs from my childhood. It comes from the album where Richard and Karen are at the beach, she is sitting on a rock with a long white dress. It once was my mother's favorite album. She would play it loud on our old stereo which was taller than I and as long as the living room wall. I would dance in front of the speakers, feeling the music seep into my bones and my viscera.

This morning, when the first notes of the song floated on the air, they were tainted with the scent of PlayDoh. I could suddenly feel the cold smoothness in my hands and taste the strangely sweet, salty taste of the magical concoction. Suddenly, I was three and carefree, sitting at the kitchen table with my mother, dangling my feet and relishing in the simple pleasure of being alive. From the depths of my gut, this memory rose and I breathed it in, feeling grateful that I am, indeed, alive. So very much alive!