Restless restfull days

Yesterday I was absolutely awash with thoughts and wrote none of them down. I thought of stories to write, letters still unwritten, letters recently sent, the people behind them, my life, the force and the smell of the wind ripping through my town, my new town to come, recipes, and so on and so forth.
I find myself lost and swept away in my thoughts on these slow and windy days in Maevatanana, but when I sit down to write they are gone, afflicted with stage fright they vanish at the very moment I turn on my computer. So in an effort to force a performance we being with an applause to disguise the begging and pleading. We humbly request for the top performance to perform, for the main act to act. And so we continue.
This morning after getting off the phone with my parents, I told myself to do nothing. I went to town to get meat for meals and vegetables ( I cant live without my tomatoes) and felt restlessness. I even felt my inner 4yr old begin to sulk and start whining boredom in her own private litany. Stopping at my friends house I examined the baby clothes she had just started to sell and felt something inside me disgustingly start to Ooh and Aah over the tiny hats, shirts, and pant suits. My friend, seeing the smitten reaction laced across my face told me to hurry up and get pregnant.
“Get pregnant. Then you can buy these clothes.”
“That’s not a reason to get pregnant. Besides I cant while I work for Peace Corps.”“No problem. When you are done, you stay in Madagascar and have babies. Then Ill give you this!”
She holds up a fleece onezie that has no business being in the hottest town in Madagascar.
I laughed to myself which prompted a similar response from the three pregnant women in various stages of pregnancy standing in front of me who were actually shopping for a reason. Having a fleeting thought of a poster advertisement for a fertility clinic I told my friend before I left the country I would have a beautiful baby and leave it for her as a souvenir. I said it as a joke, of course. She was absolutely thrilled.
The restlessness hit again, but my friends smiling face forced me to remain still in her house. Then, after my 4yr old and run out of energy and grew bored with being bored, my 50 yr old kicked in with a ‘just watch’ mentality. So, I leaned myself against the window sill and gave in to watching, people, cow drawn carts, children, and chickens. (Yes children are different than people) It was a struggle at first to make myself stop and watch but after only two conflicts we were perfectly at peace with the moment instead of finding ourselves lost in the moments that were coming.
I love olive tea. I love making it, the feel of the crunch leaves as you slip them into the boiling water, relieving the chef scene from Little Mermaid almost every time I do it.
“It don’t hurt cause you’re dead! And you don’t know how lucky you are…
Cause its gonna be hot in that big silver pot…
-Cue chesty laugh with a French accent….”
With a small smile to my own personal joke I can walk away and continue my business until the pungent aroma wafts through my small house, reminding me that it is time to drink.
A small amount of sugar and pure happiness for the taste buds. it’s a ritual in and of itself.
I sometimes laugh as I watch myself go about my business. If you have never watched yourself you simply must try it. It is absolutely one of the most entertaining things to do when you are surrounded by quiet. I watched as I washed the dishes, cursing slightly when the oily grungy water hit my legs. I listened today as I scolded myself when I discovered the trail of ants leading to a “clean” and completely grungy pan on my wall. I have no idea where my mind was when I thought it was clean, but there it was, hanging suspended on a nail with no more than a sliver of the fish caked rim hitting the wall thereby allowing a thousand ants to come and feast on yesterday’s delectable goodies. I laughed as I sighed and told myself that is what I get for not actually cleaning my dishes then enjoyed the smell of the water hitting the stucco wall as I washed the ant’s trail away. I laughed at myself when I accidentally flicked a piece of meat I was cutting for lunch into my face and watched as I grimaced and delicately removed it from under my eye and delivered it into the slobbering and hopeful mouth of my dog.
Then I watched as I realized I was watching all of this. We both laughed and I thought…” I should sit down and write today.”
And now I drink my olive tea, watching my dog chew sinew and bone ( her Sunday treat), wearing my lazy clothes and thinking of absolutely nothing to do.
Now I find myself thinking of the untold and private stories that are needing to be logged in my journal, explanations for myself of actions and the varied consequences and my thoughts on my life as we would understand it. But that can come later. Nothing needs to happen now, nothing has to happen now. The laundry sits on my floor but the day is still young. The meat sits in garlic oil waiting to be cooked but the hunger has yet to come. So for now it is simply now. Fingers tapping keys, toes flexing, breath moving in and out of my body and blood coursing up my neck into my mind, fueling everything, including the thoughts flowing back through my fingers tapping keys. Its actually quite beautiful. Most things are when we stop to experience them.