Who am I?

A mother? A wife? A grandmother? An aunt? A sister? A cousin? A daughter? Yes, I am all these things but mostly, I am me.

I am the night where clatters and thumps within the silent and dark house comfort. Where Keith, Ozzy and Stephen are sound asleep. I am 3am when the night creatures come to visit in the fleeting hours before the dawn. I am the downstairs’ clock chiming, the wind shaking my window. I am the porch light and the refrigerator humming.

I am the indulgence that escapes.

I am the unread words in a book on the night stand, and the hook on the back of my bedroom door. I am the Rosary Beads blessed by the Pope. I am the Dream Catcher above my bed. I am the young woman in the picture frame, and the slippers at the foot of my bed. I am the fresh smell of espresso.

I am contradiction. I am clarity. I am the dream. I am the moment. I am you.

I am frustration and deliverance. I am me.

‘Wisdom tells me I am nothing. Love tells me I am everything. Between the two my life flows.’
-Sri Nisargadatta Maharaj 1897-1981
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