Laughter.
I drove home laughing a few nights ago. I thought I would do it again tonight because this was supposed to feel the same way but it did not. Two nights ago, I felt different. I was laughing… No, I was half-smiling. Laughter is different, isn’t it? Laughter is vocal because it is loud, open, and free. Oh, wait. This, too, was loud, open, and free.
Since when did half-smiling become such a “screaming” sound? Perhaps, this was my version of laughter in this moment. In fact, I do not remember the last time I “laughed” so hard. I lifted both hands off the wheel and slid the windows of my Toyota down. Oh, whatever. Ahead was a simple straight lane without street-lights and death is nothing I fear, regardless.
My arms at forty-five-ish degrees to my chest and head swaying, my foot on the accelerator, I drove and I laughed through my half-smile. I knew somewhere deep inside my gut that I was still afraid, as usual, of this moment being disrupted but I focused on savoring the taste.
This moment of nothingness and yet, everything. Inhale, exhale, and melt. Blessed.