Are you even alive?

At the doctor’s office this morning. The nurse I really like takes my blood pressure. 99 over 74.
She says to me: Girl, are you even alive?
We laughed. But as I sat waiting for the doctor, I began to question it.

Am I even alive?
I breathe.
I eat.
I walk.
I laugh.
That surely means I’m alive.

But sometimes I have that nagging feeling my body is alive. It goes through the motions of this life. But my spirit is disconnected from this body that lives my life.
I can’t quite put my finger on it.
I’ve been feeling hyperconnected to this life over the last few weeks. My spirit firmly integrated into my body, my life.
Spending sacred time in Charleston with my friend and mentor, and my family. Doing good work from my heart.
Being home has been more of an adjustment than expected. I did not realize how much I missed my sister in law until I spent that time with her. I didnt realize how much I’d missed YBW until I saw his face.
I’m present in this body. In this life.

I didn’t sleep well last night. Plauged with bad dreams, and woke with head pain.
Am I alive because I have pain?
Pain can make one question everything.

I physically shook my body in an attempt to shake off this line of questioning.

Here’s what I believe:
I am alive becuase I am aware.
And I’m going to leave it at that.