Snapping Back

For a brief, two or three hour period last night, the mental, emotional, and spiritual space I generally occupy shifted. For that time the weight and the cares vanished, and I laughed and talked with my brother. We planned and schemed for a special event in his life that’s happening tonight. We did a bit of Christmas shopping, and shared our own uniquely twisted sense of humor, upon seeing a woman out walking her dog. (The dog had booties with reflective tape on them, which was the only thing that made it visible as the woman walking it crossed the street in front of us. We both did double takes as we saw four little reflective booties moving across the street, seemingly attached to nothing. And the jokes regarding the possibilities surrounding reflective clothing for small animals flowed from there.)

And then, he left my house, and I abruptly and harshly snapped back into my more usual hyper-aware state. The news of a friend’s very ill child. A deep ache in my ribcage. An email from a friend. Some photos of people I love.

I seem to move between spaces – between worlds – a lot lately. I’m getting used to it, and can survive it with dignity and even peace most days. But last night was particularly harsh, the transition was quick and rough. And I’m feeling like I’m still reeling a bit from that today.