Day 8
companion
This one, who sits near me now, the most recent and most beloved; my companion. The easy way we share this room, which is flooded in muted light reflecting from fresh spring snow. Our dog in the corner, her soft breath and fur, rising and falling, steady. I am soft too, on these days when we are uninterrupted by everything but the wind and the snow sliding off the roof. I am soft and curled, my thoughts a bit foggy, my heart calm.
Who is companion to my secret thoughts? Who walks beside my shadow, keeping my dark sister company? Even in the shuttered rooms of my soul, I feel a presence. Nowhere and never am I alone.
Do I call it God, or friend, or muse or all of the above? Does it matter if this companion has a name?
My sisters (not all biological) are my life companions; their growing strength like a current that carries me out to sea. One has been there since she was born and I was just two. She stays with me, even in my dreams, always on my mind. Others have been with me since my late adolescence, always seeking and always finding me. Companions in my labor, as I brought two lives into this world. Companions in my joy, a psilocybin-induced romp through the woods on my fortieth birthday. Companions in devastation as my marriage failed, my legs broke, my bank account emptied, my children blamed me. These sisters; companions to all that I have known in my adulthood.
The deepest and most trusted companion: silence. The Divine Silence that provides me a place to breathe, where only my breath is heard. Waking in the dark last night, all was quiet and because I have known her so well and for so long, I am not afraid. As I slip back under, she embraces me, my companion in sleep.
