Today I am a crocodile

I have the distinct impression that I am an old croc wallowing in dark waters. I

feel the heaviness of mud as my eyes hover just above the surface. I am cold of
heart and don't want to move. I only know a feeling of wanting to be near the
earth. I like the light that is gentle, not forcing away my solitude. I like the

company of others who let me have my space. I have no heart for idle chatter and

shy away from the busy-ness beyond my borders. I want less to sing than to moan.

I want less to move than to float. I own my own territory with assured-ness of

my own ferocity. It is not cruel it is merely protecting the sanctity of my own
desired experience. That life that became me this day wouldn't have it any other

way. For now I am this not that. Only for a while will I hold down the errant
desires that lead me toward glee. For now I honor the right to be dark and cold
and wet. For now I honor the distinctiveness of my own present moment
experience. And for now I am met only by those who know how to honor such places

in themselves.