Decrescendo
It’s been a while.
A piano fell today. It was a normal day.
Woke in time for Fajr,
revised a short story,
Breakfast for the kids,
played
laundry,
read a short story,
Their mom came and took them to bowl
A 2-hour Zoom orientation for a fellowship I recently won,
Basketball with Miles (I lost)
supper,
hugs and stories
facts I didn't know I needed
and then, as if an 80s cartoon rope had snapped...a piano fell.
Life went dark and heavy.
prayed as the kids roared in and out of laughter in their room.
did the breathing exercises my therapist showed me last month, in his office, when a little of his lunch flew out, and I accidentally said “yuck” out loud.
queued up my go-to YouTube playlist: RANDOM ACTS OF KINDNESS.
drank water,
sat still,
A peppermint bath because when pianos fall out of the sky, you feel like you can’t breathe in the right key.
I still feel the wood, still hear the diminished chords, and sustain looming on top of me, but the more I remember the glimmers, the more I wiggle free. Even writing this is another wiggle. So is imagining a person struggling with their own version of life’s animated follies, reading this and feeling just a little tad itty bitty teeny bit lighter.
With all my heart
— Té