What I did after my workshop this weekend

Good morning. I went to bed a few hours ago but set my alarm to get up and write this because I told my students I’d give $500 to the first person who noticed that I wasn’t posting first thing in the morning to my blog.

I’m pretty sure that was a run-on sentence.

I spent the weekend leading a workshop. Right now, I have been writing and deleting the next sentence. I’m not feeling quite prepared to write about the weekend yet. It’s still fresh in my bones, and I’m pretty much brain-scrambled right now. “Just tell one story,” I’m saying to myself. “Tell one story, post it, and then go back to bed.”

This could be a strange sort of physical competition show on TV. Get people really tired, give them a few hours of sleep, and then have them write something.

Even typing right now is difficult.

It’s hard to pick up my fingers to press them down on the keys.

There is muzak playing in my head.

I hear birds chirping outside. Cars driving. A train horn in the distance.

A story is too much for me right now. Everything is jumbled in a pile inside me. Feelings. Memory snippets. Sensations.

But mostly, a desire to sleep.

After the workshop finished, I drove around the city a bit aimlessly. It was a glorious, sunny, beautiful day. I realized I had a desire to connect with nature. To just be. So I drove to the park, parked the car, and then walked to the butterfly garden. Butterflies, the symbol of transformation. Sounds perfect.

When I got there, I peeked inside the butterfly garden greenhouse and saw a lot of people, standing in a huge line. It did not look peaceful. It looked like a line for a ride at Disney. I noticed a few people fanning themselves with their programs. Nope, I thought, not my idea of a good time. Cooped up in a hot place with a lot of people. No thanks.

So I kept walking. I didn’t really know where I was going; just that I would find the perfect spot.

I found this little patch of grass in the shade of a few trees. I lay down there. I took off my shoes. I bent my knees and let my body sink into the earth. It felt heavenly.

Yes.

The ambient sound of children playing.

Yes.

I just lay there, resting. The ground gently sloped downhill under my back. I pulled my backpack under my head as a kind of makeshift pillow.

Yes.

I gave myself permission to stay there as long as I needed. And to snooze, without setting an alarm.

So I closed my eyes and snoozed.

I drifted a bit.

Not sure how much time had passed. I wasn’t fully asleep, really, but I was in the floating state where you kind of hover in a delicious, relaxing way between sleep and being awake.

After some time, I became aware of something brushing me, light and feathery. So feint. So delicate.

This feeling of softness.

After some time, I opened my eyes and realized it was the pale pink petals of cherry blossoms, falling on me as I rested.

Grin.

All is well.

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