Standing Still. Finally, Still.

The main room in the hostel

Travelers' bodies drift in our doors

and out our windows.

They circle around me as I stand still -

finally,

still.

They come from New York LA Oregon Oklahoma Boston Detroit.

They don't know me

and ask me for my story.

That same story. . .

"I'm from Pennsylvania but have been living

in the Maryland DC area for the past eight years

as a teacher and then a school principal and last year

I quit my job got rid of most of what I owned and

have been living out of my car traveling for six weeks

and now I'm here because I ran out of gas money and I 

love New Mexico I'm working and living at the hostel

and looking for a part time job in town

and writing a book

and cleaning out my body

and starting a new life

again

and again

and again."

Will I repeat the same story

to each weary, beautiful traveler

who drifts in through our doors

and out through our windows?

"Oh and I'm married.

Yes, married."

Right - then there's that.

That thing that I'm not really talking about.

But it is finding me here.

Everything will find me here

in this teeny tiny town

without even a post office.

My body has been here 

for four days 

and my spirit is slowly catching up -

swimming in behind me like a trail of mist

that I have been outrunning

for months.

I did an I-Ching reading 

last night.

It told me my purpose here is

purification

and to learn from a great teacher.

So I find little nooks

away from all the travelers.

The back corner of the top floor,

by the lit-up Christmas tree.

The silent greenhouse

on a warm afternoon.

The hidden hammock

deep in the woods out back.

And I do my best to remember

who I am

and wait

for the purification

and for my teacher

to return.

The Rio Grande