This here is the first of my "pub crawl" writings. The writing I will be doing as I drink my way through San Francisco one pub at a time.
Entry 1: Only my shadow knows where I go!
As my son and I were walking to his ballet class this afternoon we found ourselves playing a game with our shadows that stretched out before us. We imagined our shadows as physical examples of ourselves... very tall, thin, two-dimensional extensions of us. First, he made me laugh as he came up with all sorts of stories and troubles his shadowy self might get into. Then he made me think! Only my shadow knows where I go. It takes all the steps of the day with me, whether seen or not, it is there ... it knows exactly how many times I have to pee each day, thus solving the mystery of the ever disappearing toilet paper. It knows the truth behind my terrible eating habits. The habit that more often than not includes coffee, oops! forgot lunch, some chips, some very salty chips, and beer. It knows the pace I keep and simply put it knows exactly where I have been.
However, I must admit that on a much deeper level my shadow knows the places I think about going, my starts and my stops, my many, many beginnings. Maybe that is why the shadow stretches so long, so often in front of me as if in some vain attempt to pull me towards those things I desire and the dreams I have. Or, why it might linger sadly behind me when I suddenly turn in the wrong direction! The more I think about it the more I believe..."my shadow knows".
It knows not only where I am going and where I would like to go... it clearly knows how I want to be seen if the choice was somehow up to me. The body I feel lurking beneath the surface of my skin. The shadow, it peels like a layer of my soul lying in front of me so tall and thin. It smoothly navigates all that comes it's way rising and falling, bending and turning, never breaking, always whole. I find myself suddenly very impressed with my shadow this long, complete dark thing. I love my shadow. I think for now I will follow the reach of it's long arms and trust that it has turned the corner before me and everything will be o.k.