the Alone Days

by Karen Phillips Curran


Yet again, morning comes.
These are the alone days, not many come to visit, and I spend my time pecking away at the things needing doing, for the sake of progress. I move back and forth between the buildings carrying things from one place to another. My water pitcher can be seen in my hand, a few times a day, fetching and carrying warm water to the cabin. I shut off the water several weeks ago, it can’t be kept from freezing, so, off it goes.
I work around the things I cannot do alone. Step over them, or around them, reminders of the question, who and how will that get done.
Questions; so many of them these days, I question everything, not like my youth when I questioned nothing and went on faith that others would know, help, be there. It kinda stopped working out that way, when childhood ended. Others don’t ‘know’, well, not any more than I do. We are all fumbling along. Some are more confident, in some areas, they have life paths that bring them to mainly familiar places and so, they ‘know’. Life becomes a stream of integrated beliefs and understandings that propel us towards the known and the unknown. Choices present themselves at every turn. ‘What will I do today’ is one of my first question each morning. Prescribed routes generally don’t work for me. My life is ever changing, shifting from one path to another. Some days are studio days,they turn into weeks. Some days are theatre days, that turn onto weeks. Some are travel days….they turn into weeks as well. Those paths are undefined, worthy of whim.