It doesn’t happen often. Almost never, really. But, last night I had the house to myself. My husband and daughter were miles away in Maryland for a lacrosse tournament (I am forever grateful he takes the ones with the long drives), and my son was away at a sleepover. So, after saying goodbye to my son and 8 or 9 of his friends who enjoyed two hours of relief from the sweltering heat in our pool after an afternoon of paintball, I dumped some shock in the water, gave the wet trail of feet on the floorboards a quick wipe with a cloth, and opened the door to my first guest to arrive.
Mind you it was not a large party. And, I wouldn’t really call it a party. A gathering of three dear friends is just about perfect in my book. No pretense. No frills. Just a few healthy goodies to share, a bottle of wine, and a never-ending string of animated conversation. It was just what I needed.
While we ate, we talked about dreams and meditations, visions and ancient sites. We talked about what we are working on healing and releasing, and the little and not so little things in life that sometimes just need the the space of receptive ears to find sense and peace. The minutes stretched into hours too quickly, but no one wanted to leave. It was my bedtime before the wine was uncorked, and we decided the chlorine had probably done its job of clearing the remains of 10 sweaty teenage boys.
Swimsuits we donned and we headed out into the heavy night air to take a dip. Orion’s belt hovered over the tips of hemlocks and fireflies danced under their boughs. A perfect night for a swim, if you discredit the mosquitos. And so we swam. For a good half hour or more. Talking about portals and fairies. Pyramids and frogs. Strange, disjointed conversation that made sense to us.
The human body loves water, remembering where it came from. What gives it life. Had it not been for those mosquitos, we may never have gotten out. “I’d be in here all the time,” my friends remarked as I confessed I hardly ever venture in.
And so I began to wonder, why not? Why is it so easy to forget to nurture the self? To indulge in the not so indulgent pleasures of life? The pool, after all, is right outside my door. I clean it weekly, if not more, for the kids. Why not for me? Especially at night, when the air is still and the night opens the veil to the stars and all that hovers beyond this tiny planet we call home.
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