I stop for a second to simply admire the sunrise.

The light begins to peek over the trees,
revealing all the life the night had hid.

I pause for a moment to take it all in.

I suddenly become aware of two undeniable truths:
One: life is around me.
Two: life is within me

My exhales provide visible evidence of this.

I continue walking, and I pass by an unfamiliar face.
No big deal.

Immediately after we pass each other, I hear footsteps closing in on me.
The man turned around and is now following me.
Feels like a big deal.

My amygdala is fully triggered.
I attempt to reason with it.
Maybe he left something at home or in his car?

My body refuses to even entertain this as a possibility.
You are in danger.

I hear him describing to someone on the phone precisely where we both are.
You are in danger.

I am now walking as quickly as I can,
rushing away towards anywhere but here.

Breathing all of a sudden becomes difficult.
The misery of another unprompted and unwanted war seems just moments away.

Disruptive images, visions, and memories force themselves into my mind.
I have no time to console myself.
I must keep walking.

I must keep walking.

---

I hurriedly begin to walk to a coffee shop several blocks away.

All my mind can consider is work,
errands I need to run,
and people I need to see.

I am anywhere but here.
I have so much to do.

A man I just passed is now walking in the same direction as me.

My headphones muffle the sound of his voice, but it sounds as if he’s explaining where he’s at to someone on the phone.
He must be meeting up with someone.

I have so much to do.

---

“No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it’s not the same river and he’s not the same man.”
– Heraclitus

Undergoing a traumatic event has heightened my awareness of all of my senses.
This constant alertness is both a gift and a curse.

I am growing increasingly aware of the beauty of the
sunrise,
sounds of animals scurrying around,
and the subtle aspects of creation,

while also

growing increasingly vigilant of
my own shadow,
leaves falling and hitting the ground,
and any stranger I pass by.

It’s as if my antenna has grown remarkably sensitive to all that’s around me.

What once went unnoticed, now prompts me to panic.
What was once unsettling, is now startling.

What once went unnoticed, now prompts me to pause.
What was once charming, is now startling.

I desire to both
continue walking
and
pay attention.

To not be ruled by hypervigilance,
nor
be blind to what’s happening both around and within me.

No man ever walks the same path twice, for it’s not the same path and he’s not the same man.