Today I lost myself. Momentarily, of course. But moments are sneaky because they blur into the day and the day blurs into time, time forgets to tell us it is passing, and then these moments no longer seem so innocent.
It wasn't until I got Home today that I remembered to remember me.
It (the "losing me") began with the walk to the subway as I hurriedly crossed streets to a blinking of the red hand. I walked unnoticed and unnoticingly walked.
And then I sat on the subway, reading ads for learning English and plastic surgery.
And I stared at others as they vacantedly sipped their cheap coffee, getting lost in their thoughts that probably didn't exist.
And I sat at my desk, engulfed in suspected terror plots and the reasonableness of class action attorney fees.
And I walked out of the court house, thinking about the past and planning for the future.
And I checked my phone for no other reason than habit. And then 30 seconds later, I checked it again. No "new" news in the world that I was currently not checked into.
And then when I was near home, I felt a chill in the air, and I thought, "I am cold." And suddenly I remembered that I was feeling. Which led me to remember that "I am." Which reminded me that I was me. And it felt good to return to a state of remembering. To catch that moment before it fled. To truly breathe. To accompany myself back Home.