starving yourself

It’s been over 24 hours since you’ve had a drop of water or felt the taste of food. 

You’re walking, embarking on this mission to find yourself through the abyss of your own inner psyche. You do this to yourself repeatedly, what are you looking for? As soon as your two feet hit the ground, they seem to know. A mile in and the sun is seen from across the horizon. It’s glow lights up the horizon and trickles down to the expansive lake beneath you. The red fall colors dance in the light. You’re tired from lack of sustenance but you e done this before. Your feet start to become especially clumsy. You stumble your way onto white lime rocks and set up camp for the night. A little mat and your quilt. It’s 6pm, yet your mind is wanting some time to reset itself from the days activity. Flutter, flutter, flutter, your eyes shut. 

Flop, flop, flop, a little fish is swimming beneath you and you hear it’s joyous wonder. You flutter your eyes open and you find yourself in awe, you’re sleeping beneath Pegasus, andromeda, Aquarius, the stars your ancestors grew up seeing, creating stories under. You, looking ahead, have been so busy with the the material world, your house, your career, your studies that you’ve forgotten to look up. 

Hoot, hoot, hoot, you hear the owl howling at night. You switch to child’s pose then left womb, and right womb, constantly finding a few hours of sleep and waking up to alleviate the aches of sleeping on such a surface.

Shoulder hurts. It’s a tightness like you were stitched together too tight, someone used the wrong pattern when they were cutting you out. Look in the mirror and call the lumpiness of your soul yours if you’d like. Feel the pressure like a balloon and move away from it, not how you’ve been told to move, but whatever way your body moves itself. Unthink your biomechanics. You end up in a position that would scare someone if they saw you. If it feels right, stay there for a day, if it feels right. Pop. Groan. A fundamental shift. Deciding is no decision. Shoulder doesn’t hurt. 

There’s a dog barking all night long and you curse at the owner who has such a misbehaved being but as the night starts to deepen, more barks becoming apparent until you hear a heard of them and one of the dogs howl to the half moon above you. It seems as if they’ve caught their kill. You’re awake now, aren’t you, so you sit up. A rustling noise creeps up from behind you and your left spine squirms in response. 

I slept underneath the stars last night. I heard the insects crawl, saw the people fishing in their motorboats, felt the joyous energy of the little lake creatures, observed the sounds of the coyotes hunting, and gazed at the fleeting light across from the horizon and eternal lights above. It was cold but I was happy.