emergence.

It’s not enough. I can’t do all the things I want to do.

There are the hummingbirds, there are the raccoons, there are the walking sticks, the fireflies, the big spiders with long legs. There are the cicadas and the bats dive-bombing night sky. There is the hot curve of the road, the deer tracks in mud, the neighbors driving by me with a steering wheel wave, or not. The mosquitos bzzzzing around my ear. The fear of what comes next around the curve, around the bend, on the drive back to home. I run now. I walk on country roads and I don’t worry that anything bad will happen to me. I take my chalk and I write things on the road when no cars are coming. I listen to the podcasts and make mmmm sounds and say the word yes aloud and the trees agree with me and sometimes the tops of them start their waving and the sound is like approaching heaven.

How many lives has this been? And who am I today? Today, I was a quick and very confusing tarot spread, two cups of coffee, Emergent Strategy highlighted with hot pink colored pencil, poolside. Then, Maewyn cranked open the window to the upstairs and began to sing out to me. It was my own personal musical. I captured only an excerpt using my voice notes. She sang —

When I think I’m alone in a crowd of people…
when I know what I’m doing, I can step forward and see!
Now I know what I’m doing, I can step forward and see.
I can step forward and see the truth.
I can step forward and know the truth.
I can step forward!
One more step into life.
Take a leap ahead of you.
Stand there and say something!
When you know something is wrong, you can fix it
by being the one who knows all the stuff you can do.
When you’re flying across the clouds, you know what you can do
and everybody knows
that you’re the one who’s going to stand up to —
the one who’s going to stand up to—
the one who’s going to stand up to —
the one who knows that everything’s right,
the one who know’s how to fix things.
You can’t bring me down!

After she was done, she cranked the window shut again, slowly. I don’t care if my kids only ever learn to read and write and know how to be cool on a camping trip which this week, was proven to be true. I don’t care if they don’t “perform well” on standardized tests if they are ever a thing again. I want to drive them into the sunset with us, somehow picking up my cats on the way, trusting in our own adaptation, our own possibility.

But still, there are mammograms to schedule. There are dental appointments, tax forms to finally finish, peeling paint in the bathroom, a hot bedroom to sleep in in September. There is some kind of school to attempt. There is the waiting world of the city, our city, waiting for us, a mere twelve hours away, when we’re ready.

One more step into life.