Twenty-one years we’re married. Sitting on the beach, watching the wind, surf, people, breathing in.
Does she like it? This new world I am creating? Our new home away from home.
She is sitting next to me and I feel a growing involuntary discomfort, a physical presence, a knot in my stomach. Sadness. In this perfect world. I cannot speak to her, cannot ask her. My wife. My love. Sitting next to me not saying anything. The tension between us building silently. The knot growing.
Catch it… before it catches hold, catch the knot. Anxiety. Feel it, grow, check it, keep feeling it. Don’t suppress it. Aware its presence but not trying to understand it. I watch it surprised, catching it full face on, not running from it. Watch it grow. Allowing the emotion to be there without being controlled by it. I am no longer the knotted emotion; I am a watcher, an observing presence
“I know you Demon! You exist nowhere but inside of me. I created you. I gave you power.” Suppressing, battling, feeding.
Face it. Feel it. Slowly I watch it dissipate and subside into nothing.
She takes my hand. No tension in her. No words.
Free, easy and released.