Learning to first drift, then hustle, then inhabit the house feeling cooped up but still making chirps and sometimes squawks, when tickled wandering the neighborhood we learned someone owns a kit of pigeons, trained for racing but in this case simply circling the roof over and over I inhabit the house and listen to the echoes of my youth condensed soups, homemade iced tea, washing dishes by hand Mom was always the dishwasher, so Grandma didn't need a machine I think I am the dishwasher now by default The jokes are bad, they come from the dads we are dancing funny, trying not to get mad and then sad stepping on each other's toes, having one last tennis match running away from the house and then back, just to stretch our legs each time we leave the house the sun renews us and the birds sing I inhabit my body, hoping the shower washes off the malaise remembering to breathe and laugh and cry we are doing our best, we are not sick at all just homesick for the vibrant people we used to be and confused about what our lives will become
Career and Intuitive Coach