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Decompression

The house was quiet.

All I could hear was the sound of my own fingers, tap-tapping on the keyboard, the ceiling fan overhead, whirring and clicking, and the furnace fan pulling air up from the basement to blow through the house.  The rest was quiet, hushed, silent.

And it was beautiful.

The glow of the light on the coffee table nearby shone golden, illuminating only a portion of the room, while the rest lay in soft shadows.  Cool, dark, comforting. 

And I was tired.

Oh, so tired.   Weary muscles pulled and ached slightly, reminding me of the workout on the treadmill earlier tonight.  Hair still wet from my shower, afterward, I was refreshed, but worn out.  Pleasantly so.  It had gotten to the point where, if I didn’t walk, my muscles would cramp in my legs, seemingly begging to be used.  And I liked the feeling of freedom, the high of adrenaline that rushed through my veins at the end of a long walk, punctuated by fast music and the beating of my heart racing along.

Sitting now, in front of the computer, I was struck by the idea that I could describe this feeling of utter contentment, of relaxation, that weighed down my body, while it freed my soul to soar.  With the blackness of night waiting patiently at the edge of the door, pressing itself against the livingroom window, I knew that I’d soon be out on the front porch step, watching the stars, listening to the cars going by on the streets.  Winding myself down, settling my thoughts, quieting my heart. 

Decompression

The letting go of pressure.  This was the moment that I waited for, the utter stillness of the soul.  The exhalation of the long, drawn-out breath, pulling knots out of muscles, too-long tense.  The feeling of sinking deep into the cushions of the couch, the sensation of falling through oneself, that comes with a bone-deep weariness and an exhausted mind. 

When you finally let the weight of the world fall from your shoulders, you feel lighter than the clouds.  And you can float off, in any direction you choose.  Freed from the burdens of life’s minutiae, a smile drifts across my face.  And I’m ready to face the dark.  Knowing, that what awaits me in the darkness, isn’t to be feared.  It’s meant to be embraced, fallen into, comforted by.  Perfect, comforting sleep.

 

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One thought on “Decompression

  1. Pingback: Decompression « Zombies Vampires and other Freaks

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