Compression: “to squeeze together, to bring into a smaller space, press on a part of the body to stop bleeding”
Propped up on my pink rose pillows I’m thinking about the word compression today.
My daughter’s home and having a viewing of “The Secret Garden” and I have a minute to write.
I am so relieved by the arrival of fall.
I always think of summer as wild. The days of sunlight as so very long and the endless hours of heat make it feel like a holiday while never leaving home. Home to me in the summer is more about surviving the weeks the children are on holidays. I want them to explore their world and have memories but being the source of all their activity tends to leave me feeling empty.
During the summer my hours to think and write are compressed down into almost nothing and I realize without the peace it brings my life, I am somehow at a loss for purpose. As a person I am less without the element writing brings to my life. Without my creative outlet, my art, my passion, I feel less. I feel like the life is being squeezed out of me one drop at a time.
Compression as it relates to my body, and particularly my back, leaves me feeling stiff and uncomfortable like I’m living in the body of a person twice my age. I long to run, to walk, to bike, to swim, to ride a motorcycle, fly in a helicopter and travel the world.
From my window at home, my world feels small. When I open the window to my imagination I can read about going anywhere, doing anything, being anything. Through my characters I can experience adrenalin and that is perhaps my next word of the day.