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Small Movements on a Monday Morning

My cat is determined to lay her head in the crook of my elbow as I try to type. She lays on the desk between my right and left arms and between my body and the keyboard. As she purrs, Kuniko Plays Reich plays and the hum of a bit of computer equipment fills the edges of the aural space. I have been awake since 5:30. I have exercised and eaten a simple but tasty breakfast. I tried to listen to an Afrobeat CD but it is jammed in the drive and the computer doesn’t even recognize it, so I cannot eject it. The CD will have to wait until the spouse can check it out. I write and I listen and I wait for 8 when I can call the doctor’s office.

I teach today. I have to go fill out a bureaucratic form for my new job. I will pick up framed art (art of other people) and drop off more work to be framed. I may go look for a pair of work shoes. I may end up going to the doctor. Much of this will involve driving around. Driving tends to stress me out, so I plan to carry small movements that bring me joy with me.

When I finish writing this, I will wash a load of laundry and hang it up on the line. I get such joy from hanging laundry on the line. Yesterday, I washed three loads and hung them to dry. As I pinned towels to the line, I noticed the sunlight on my hands. It was a moment of perfect. When I brought them in the towels were stiff from the sun. Stiff enough that folds were like crinkles that had to be pulled flat and the gleeful child in me relished flatting the stiff crinkles. I will carry those moments of movement with me as I go about my day. A day full of movement from one place to another.

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