The Empty Box
I am lying in bed in a pair of black lace boyshorts and nothing else, listening to the neighbors smoke alarm go off for the 3rd time and watching a grave get dug in the cemetery outside my bedroom window.
It’s a beautiful sunny fall day. Lots of wind. Leaves crinkling and giving way to gusts, falling from high up in the trees while those on the ground race each other; resting only in between cool invisible bursts of energy.
The calendar square is blank for the day. And while once I may have seen that as having nothing to do, now I see the space as an invitation to create, wander, dream, and experience. The box on the calendar is empty today. And I have anything and everything to do.