silence.

I am keenly aware of the silence creeping in around me, just as one is aware of the smell of skunk on the highway. I sit alone in the living room, the washing machine churning upstairs and the cats casually knocking important paperwork off the table, chasing one another across the room, pausing to pose another attack.

My body feels pleasantly relaxed and an ice pack rests on my right leg, helping to ease the discomfort of an earlier bike injury. That sounds much more glorious than it really is. In fact, it’s quite embarrassing. I rode to a local trail and decided to brave it. It’s a rough trail, designed for riders much more experienced with off-roading than I am at this juncture. I decided to stick to it anyway.

The trail was narrow, only about a foot wide, and wooded on all sides. It was rocky and filled with tree roots, and would take sudden dips or rise out of nowhere or even offer a long and steep downhill. After about 10 minutes I ran into someone coming from the other direction.

“Sorry,” I offered.

“You’re going the wrong way,” he muttered under his breath. Feeling extremely embarrassed and like the amateur I am, I turned around and steered the course the opposite direction, which turned out to be much easier. Until I hit the gravely drive, where I failed to mount the higher terrain. I put my foot down to steady myself, but lost my balance anyway and went down on my right leg, a large pointy rock creating an instant welt.

So I sit, nursing it a bit and preparing mentally for another week of work. I find I struggle inwardly to figure out who I am. The writer/artist/hippie side of me loves creating my own schedule, filling it with writing, reading, naps and visiting the library or farmer’s market. She is unconventional, fun-loving and childlike and finds little to no need for money.

Then there is the “professional,” the side of me that loves to have a reason for dressing up, a title and place to hone her business and people skills. She feels constantly the pressure to look and act the part, to fulfill the needs and demands of her employers, to play the game and live by the rules. She recognizes the deep need for cash flow to pay of debts and live comfortably.

I battle between these two parts of me continually, not knowing which to side with. Perhaps that is not even an option right now. So I will choose to dwell in the silent tension, knowing that tomorrow the professional will come out full-force, but tonight I am still the hippie.