The Little Fly I Didn't Listen To
Note: I've moved downstairs into my living room at least temporarily. While being sick my throat has shown surprising sensitivity to even breathing briefly upstairs.
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I was lying on the futon beside the windows. I could feel a draft. It was coming in between the two windows. It was raining that day, unlike the prior two days when it was actually sunny, some of the first few sunny days of that year.
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Feeling a sudden inspiration, I decided to remedy this small thing. I'm feeling better today, aren't I? I'm being productive today, right?
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I pulled out my craft board, glue, paint brushes, and colored papers. With an eye to the warm red and orange tones in the room, I selected papers and laid them on the craft board.
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I felt meditative. I'd been re-learning to just be with myself, and feel all week long. Being sick is a great opportunity to get back in touch with oneself.
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A fly comes along in front of my face and goes to the window. "What is it?" I say aloud, wondering if my crafting plan is bad idea after all. The tiny fruit fly just flew against the window.
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"You want me to go outside, don't you?" I looked out the window, and indeed, the sun had peaked out.
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"I'll go outside when I'm done." I was already putting the glue onto paper and didn't want to stop just as I began.
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The fly came front of my face again.
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"Right now?" I sigh and look outside. Yes, I wanted to go out. But I wanted to finish what I was doing first. Surely I could go out later.
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I painted the watered-glue onto the papers and spread them over the uneven wall and holes that exposed goodness-knows-what wall-innards. The process took longer than usual because I forgot to wash the wall first, and the glue just kept picking up dust. The sun sank behind the clouds again.
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Surely the sun will come back out by the time I'm done and then I'll go outside.
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When I finished the sky was darker and grayer than before, without a patch of blue in sight.
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I'm sorry fly. I should have listened. I know guidance is always right, and yet sometimes I just don't feel that it is, and I have to go with my feelings. Thanks for trying. Thanks for telling me. Next time I'll try to listen harder.
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I put my things away, snacking on yellow, purple, red and orange carrots I sliced earlier and then sat down at my computer. I began to write.
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On the morrow, another fly comes to visit me, and finally, I listen.