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What in the Actual F*ck: Salty, Sweet Slumber
My eyes flicked open, pillow cool with sweat. It took me a moment to register that I was even awake.
It’s as if I had just parachuted from a dream, unable to discern whether it was real or not. I looked out the window to see the early light of dawn and it became disappointingly clear that it had just been a dream. But how was it that my heart was aching from emotions that felt still raw? I felt your touch. Smelled your skin. Nestled myself into your chest. And then I was alone. The only body heat from the dog curled by my feet at the end of the bed, entirely oblivious to my emotional plight.
After a few moments of revelry, I closed my eyes, but couldn’t decide if I was excited to reunite with you in my sleep or terrified that you wouldn’t be there just like you wouldn’t be in the morning. The soft pink din of the Himalayan Salt Lamp soothing me like a nightlight, I drifted back to sleep.
I now know what Fitzgerald meant when he said, “I used to build dreams about you.”
Benefits of Himalayan Salt Lamps:
- Cleanse and deodorize air, reducing allergies and asthma
- Neutralize electromagnetic radiation
- Aid sleep (produce negative ions, which aid in increasing blood and oxygen to brain/bloodstream)
- Treat Seasonal Affective Disorder
- Reduce static electricity
- Improve mood and concentration
Benefits of Himalayan Salt (period):
- Controls water levels in the body, regulating for proper functioning
- Promotes stable pH balance in the cells, including the brain
- Aids in the reduction in the common signs of aging
- Reduces cramps
- Aids in circulatory function
- Increase in libido
- Maintains healthy blood sugar levels
Where Are You?: Those Who Wander…
There are few places to seek refuge in the city. Even when you move to another borough, there’s not much more solace from the everyday chaos.
I make it a point to spend a few hours a few days every week wandering. I pretend I’m in a city I’ve never been before. And having just moved from Manhattan to Brooklyn only a few months ago, in a way I am. No one knows me here and I won’t run into anyone who will bore me with questions about how I’ve been.
I choose to lose myself. No phone calls. No emails. No black holes of social media. Me, a coffee, and a playlist on shuffle. I watch the people. I smile at some. Some smile back. I gaze into windows. Stroll into some stores. Old Polish vintage stores piled with ceramic teacups and records of bands I’ve never heard of doubling as tackle shops in the back. I try to take a different route every time. I notice the graffiti, the old chairs with good bones left on the sidewalk for the taking. An old Victorian flush against the vinyl siding of another rectangular townhouse. There is always something new to see, even if I happen upon the same street. The light changes everything. A new day’s perspective could be that light.
Some days, I walk as far as I can before there’s nowhere left to explore. I look up and see the Empire State building. Then I realize it.
You can never really get lost…
WhyDid’s Week, January 22
“If men could see us as we really are, they would be a little amazed; but the cleverest, the acutest men are often under an illusion about women: they do not read them in a true light: they misapprehend them, both for good and evil: their good woman is a queer thing, half doll, half angel; their bad woman almost always a fiend.”
Charlotte Bronte
