Of late I’ve become acutely aware of a flow and an ebb in my days. In my weeks. Really in my life. It’s nothing unique or new. In fact, it’s as natural and as old as the waxing and the waning of the moon. It’s my awareness of the rhythm of my own movement and stillness that’s recent.
Read moreFirst Responder
Understanding washed over me when she turned her face to the sky. I glanced at Hodgins and knew he was seeing it, too. We’d had it wrong. But no one could blame us.
The call had been a replay of countless others, and when you’ve been in this business long enough you know better than to look too deep. The ones who wanna get close, the guys who try to dig below the surface? They don’t last long. But me an’ Hodgins, we’d been doing this a long time, and like I said we’d responded to that sort of call more times than either of us could remember.
We were the second medic team on scene that night, but based on the call from dispatch we didn’t anticipate transporting anyone. It was a night for the Coroner’s vans and the Forensics team. We were just a line on a checklist. The first team was standing near the front of their vehicle, talking to a cop, when we pulled up. Their breath steamed in the flashing lights from the cruisers. It looked cold as hell out there.
Read moreThree Rules
Shhh!
The first rule is Stay Silent
You must stay silent.
So very quiet.
Do not cry out for your mother.
Do not whisper a prayer, nor a plea.
You are past the point of divine intervention.
You want to scream.
This is natural.
But you mustn’t.
Stifle the whimper that’s in your throat.
Okay, that’s better.
But can you soften your breathing?
No, not like that.
Don’t hold your breath.
Just breathe naturally.
Like She isn’t even here.
Slow in.
Slow out.
Smooth.
Easy.
Like you haven’t a care in the world.
Yes, that’s it!
That’s how quiet you must stay.
Now stop!
Do not move.
The second rule is Stay Still.
Do not pull the blanket over your head.
She’ll hear the rustling.
Do not scratch your nose.
Do not cross your fingers.
You are past the point of luck.
You want to flee.
This is natural.
But you mustn’t stir.
Not even a toe.
That’s it, just like that.
A little statue tucked a’bed.
Like you haven’t a care in the world.
Keep your eyes open!
Do not allow them to close for longer than a blink.
The third and final rule is Stay Awake.
Do not be lulled by the silence.
Your lids are heavy.
The fear is exhausting.
Do not waste energy hoping She’ll just go away.
You are past the point of hope.
You want nothing more than to fall asleep and wake to find this all nightmare.
This is natural.
But you mustn’t slumber.
She is watching.
Even now, Her teeth gleam through the bars of the heat register.
No!
Do not look!
Have you forgotten rule number two?
Stay still.
Do not turn your head.
But know She is there.
She is waiting.
She hungers.
And She grows impatient.
Hear Her nails on the metal duct?
Tap-scratch.
Tap-scratch.
Tap-scratch.
You must Stay Silent.
You must Stay Still.
You must Stay Awake.
Only five more hours until sunrise.
There you go, just like that.
Quiet and still and never, ever sleeping.
Like you haven’t a care in the world.
Like you haven’t a terror in the dark.
The End.
New Year, New Decade, New Blog
I’m not one for New Year’s resolutions; they smack too much of something needing to be put right. Resolutions imply that I’m not measuring up in some way or another, and by simply improving myself in certain concrete ways I’ll be fixed. But over the years I’ve been working on accepting myself as whole and complete just as I am. It doesn’t mean that I think I’m perfect. But it does mean I’m trying to accept myself, imperfections and all. So resolutions feel a bit, well, counterproductive to all that self-acceptance work. That said, it’s not just a new year. It’s a new decade. Even I have to admit that there’s something profound about that zero at the end of the year. The blank-slateyness is just too obvious to ignore.
So, what’s an anti-resolution gal to do when faced with the freshness of a new decade? I can’t speak for all such gals, but this one has chosen to identify practices to focus on in the twenties. Practices feel more useful and holistic to me than setting random goals that may not even matter to me in six months. Practice implies a work in progress, and I’m nothing if not in progress. But this is about more than just me. We’re all works in progress. And so, this may seem presumptuous, but my hope is that you’ll commit to the following practices along with me:
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