Foriegn adventure

I wake in the morning and feel my body and my world around me now, it’s a foreign country. I will get up from bed and walk down the hall—it’s my familiar house but my body doesn’t work like it used to. I move forward at the same vector and thrust around a corner to find my steadiness can’t keep up with the usual pace.

I veer off balance woozy and weak again tilting toward a wall

Oh right. Instruments hit the red sooner than expected.

I set feet, spread balance evenly between the left and right, drop my knees and get my balance.  

New territory takes fresh response.  And a keen awareness that the ground is still shifting.

I flash back. I’ve walked this forest before.

Landed in the far east, a foreigner in a landlocked city walking the streets to find what I needed. Food and friends, not in that order. Every corner, every conversation was a surprise and possibly a dangerous one.

I loved it.

I was 19 and adventure of any kind was what I wanted. I explored those streets without ceasing, to see what could be discovered.

I wanted to know the edges and go beyond them.

This body I’m living in today is very similar.

What can I do? Yes, I can’t go as fast as I used to. But what if I try it this way? What if I start slow then pick up speed? Will my own momentum carry me better in a straight line?

It’s not so different from the forests on the edge of town in Russia. Sure, it’s dangerous kinda. Maybe. But the game is to see what is possible.

The beat went over the mountain to see what he could see.

I am going to see what my current horizon shows me, and them peek over it.

That’s always been my way.

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