The aromas of sizzling hot turkey grease mixing with the scent of a Thai veggie curry emanate from our collective kitchen. "Hmmm," says my belly as it jumps for joy while my senses do somersaults through our vibrant home. We work, side by side in the Edwardian-style Victorian room, and my housemate speaks to feeling as though he doesn't have any close soul brothers here in San Diego. "Hmmm," I respond, as I share with him the sadness that this thought endeavors within me.
I wander out into the yard to collect the compost pail, and my gaze falls softly upon my roommates. Two women gently engaged in quiet conversation. "Hmmm," my spirit lifts, sensing their mutual support for one another along this journey called life. Buckbeat, Arwyn and Jedi are happily grazing, free range, across the yard. Their furry feathers and plucking ways speaks deeply to some primal place within me, far beyond the rationale of words and reason. "Hmmm," I merrily skip by, the white, plastic pail now swinging in my hand.
The heat of a southern California sun begins to fade as we slide into the end of our summer daze. "Hmmm," I reflect on the time of this now. Lately, my only response to "How are you?" is "I AM." How else is there to capture and convey the myriad of dances, the highs and lows of new beginnings and turbulent endings, and the lessons that come with simply being present to what is. "Hmmm," goes the vibration of my ribcage as I sink into the totality of my breath. "Hmmm," escapes from our lips as we sink into the safety and comfort of each other's arms. "Hmmm," says my pheromones when I am sitting next to him, nuzzling my head into his shoulder as he strums on the ukulele.
"Hmmm," says my fear when my mind wants to run circles and my body wants to bolt out the door yet, in the next moment the Universe responds - perhaps, with a big "HMMM" of his own. "You know why you came here," I imagine he is saying. "NOW is the time."
Hmmm...
