Secret and I rose before the sun to trek in the mountain in the quiet early morning hours. It’s been over a week since I’ve been able to make this sojourn for all the business of convalescing. Yesterday and today we unfolded back into our routine. I was distracted by the effort it took. Whenever I stop something for even the shortest spell, it can’t be resumed with the same ease of habit. It takes a period of readjustment. But as difficult as restarting something is, stopping something is much harder – filled with that soulful longing, missing and grief. Oh how I missed my mountain.
On Friday I had my post-surgical consult. I’m healing slightly ahead of schedule with no untoward events, besides all the untoward events I experienced in the week following the surgery and of course all these peripheral complications seemingly not associated with the surgery – but associated with what, I do not know. On top of everything else, my hands are peeling. The skin is just shedding. What’s up with that? Perhaps it’s just a hallmark of eternal return. Yes, yes, that’s it – I’m becoming a familiar or some mythical creature.
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