Dis/Connection

Evenings are my favorite time to stroll in the park, when the sun spreads its golden rays across the bay and illuminates the city's historic presence. The birds sing their songs and dance their dances in the wind as if I’m their primary audience. The zephyr echoes heavy ocean waves lapping against the sand as it travels amongst the venerable trees. The crunching twigs and clanking pebbles below my feet are grounding, and the meditative steadiness of my breath.  The fresh scent of pine needles and crisp, dew-lined grass is reminiscent of the morning fog. Listening to the light conversations and laughter of passersby. The smile on my dog's face as he wags his tail reminds me he needs this as much as I do.

For most of my life, I have searched for ways to disconnect from reality, to disappear into the background and eliminate myself as a social spectacle. I always felt myself as an outcast, as someone who never belonged - a loner.  I still am, but I’m okay with it now. Something that always worked, that always made me feel hidden enough in public to bring me comfort, was to eradicate my surroundings. Disconnecting felt safe. Now, it's the connection that brings me comfort - connection to the world around me, engaging all my senses and inviting the earthly elements to communicate intimately without the pressure of conversation.