New Year's Day

I am trying to not look at my phone.

Resolution number one: Be more mindful.

Some time ago, I was struck by the thought that I can't remember what it was like to live before this mass distraction began stealing my minutes from me. 

What did it feel like? As a kid, as a teenager, to be empty handed?

To have a mind that rested on whatever. To be so alone with myself.

With objects. With others. With animals. 

What did I notice then that I've forgotten? I swear I did not mean to turn away from it.

Somewhere buried in my body, the faint smell of hay and horse. A memory of lying in the straw. Nothing calling me away. No pic as evidence. Just alive in the barn for a moment.

I want it; that simplicity of being. I keep setting down my pen to look at the jade by the window

study its plump petals and challenge myself to keep looking, as if I might enter a portal back...

No, a portal to - light, air, life.

This is not a poem. Not yet. But it might be a start.