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The Shower

Sunday, May 15, 2016

I awoke this morning amidst a heavy feeling of foreboding. I had much to do and my first thoughts were to burrow beneath the blankets, close my eyes, and sleep throughout the day. It was a much desired wish that I knew could not be fulfilled. 

Mentally I ran down my list and knew there would be no way of getting through it unless autopilot was engaged and feelings set aside. The anticipation of entering my sanctuary at day’s end permeated the gaps in my thoughts.

Then the time came. I closed the solid, five paneled, cherry door, and studied the weary eyes that stared back at me from the mirror. I walked into the massive shower, turned on the waterfall head allowing the water to warm, then stepped out to ready myself for the release that would soon follow.

The tumbled marble was cool beneath my feet as I removed my clothing and dropped it in a heap on the floor. While waiting for the water to heat I studied my face. I looked tired, frustrated, and in much need of relaxation.

I examined my bare body. It didn’t show the strain I had been enduring. I could feel the tightness in my jaw, my neck, and radiating down my back. However, my skin looked soft, my tattoos, that are usually veiled by clothing, were vibrant, colorful, and brought a bit of a smile to my face. The diamond sitting in my navel shone brightly and I thought of other women my age and how differently we have chosen to care for, and express ourselves.

I noticed steam filling the shower and knew the time was right to step into the peace it would most certainly bring. I held my head back allowing the water to fall directly onto my face before it covered the curves of my body. I could feel the length of my long, blonde, locks touch the center of my back, and I sensed the heaviness of the day begin to lift.

I breathed deeply, for what seemed an eternity, before reaching for the shampoo and lathering my hair. With my eyes closed I took the steam into my lungs, massaged my scalp, then watched the foam form paths down my saturated torso as I rinsed the thick bubbles from my flaxen tresses.

Slowly, methodically, I finished the ritualistic, yet symbolic, cleansing of both body and soul. I took my time and enjoyed the solitude and the sound of falling water. I stood motionless as I consciously, and deeply, breathed in the warm, thick air. As I exhaled I allowed the weight, and burdens, of the day to escape and be carried down the drain by the heavenly, healing, water.

I stepped from the shower and covered myself in a thick, luxurious, Egyptian cotton, towel. I wrapped my still damp hair, wiped the foggy mirror, and saw a face with much less stress, and felt my soul had been liberated from the mishaps of the days that have passed.

I’m now relaxing in the comfort of my bed, my head resting on down filled pillows. The lights are dim and the only sound is coming from the television with the volume low. My eyes are heavy, my head is clear, and the the fight I have yet to finish can wait until another day. As for now it’s time to close my eyes, let sleep envelope me, and leave today in the past forever.

Sweet Dreams,

1 comments:

maggie Burgess May 16, 2016 at 7:10 AM  

Writing a book would not be out of the realm of possibility ! Reaching out may help a lot of souls that have or are experiencing much of the same, possibly time to give them a voice❤️ Write more, live more, dream

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