losing

I sat on the train and felt the work noose tighten/fields and trees and life flash by too fast
and I
dreamt
of walking
a solitary step-by-step steady time
to think to look to see.
I worked the whole plan out, a long distance walk, laptop in my pack so I could log back blips. My mind wandering imagined paths, restless spring, and that longing for change was what this day's blip was to be about

Only I
left
my
camera

on

the

bus.

<lurch>
realisation, released a torrent of fear and tears, that I've been damming up for years.

I sat, and I sobbed, and for an age, could not think of who, could not think of anything but awful.

Finally I phoned a loyal, lovely, patient friend who listened
I know how you feel
and some more wise words
losing the camera is much less significant than losing touch with the actual journey
guided me gently back.

Drained. Empty. Quiet. Whole.

I climbed into bed before midnight, curled up and slept, for a new blip and a new birth.