Cobwebs in my Head and a Birthday Dinner

Sometimes fear overwhelms me for a moment. That moment before I understand the feeling and my head starts making some sense of it, and the moment when I feel fear like a dark cloud emerging from somewhere inside me and billowing all around me, shrouding me then slowly wisping away. I sit quietly with the feeling, bringing myself back to the present while letting go of fearful thoughts that have by now woven and webbed themselves into my head. I work at freeing myself from the sticky tendrils, recognising and understanding. Clarity unfolds and I perceive that the main fears are 'death' and 'distance', each one being the same as, to me, death is distance and distance is death, and each one brings loss. I fear loss. Loss of loved ones by 'death' or 'distance'.

I have to finish this post on a lighter note so I guide my thoughts towards a delightful dinner that I have booked for tonight for my darling husband's 70th birthday. The restaurant faces the ocean and the waves crash just below it's windows. We have a table waiting for us right by the window. We will see the moon rising and eat something delicious. We will share a bottle of wine and climb up our apartment steps staggering a little and giggling.
All is well in the present moment and that is all that matters right now.

Je t'adore, mon homme de 70 ans!