reflecting, letting thoughts pour out
can't sleep. life is moving too quickly, again. how did i get here again? it's been nearly a year since i left orlando. a year since graduation; a year since i picked up and left. why again? only a year. a whole year. and what a year. just this summer feels like lifetimes away. who can even remember what november held? the year is marked by events. the move, berkeley, DC, 1344, spring retreat, visits, santa cruz, new york, more visits, the summit, chicago, austin, miami, full time gig and hours of desks, darts at shamrock, bloomington, fall retreat, cracking my skull, ct scans mris packing, the move. dolores park, pancho villa, zeitgeist, stocking shelves, cards, ocean beach, knitting, a billion tacos, a zillion phone calls. this year felt like ten. why did i go, and why did i leave? why am i here, only to leave again so soon?
it's a bit late to begin an '09 reflection. but this year is already getting away from me, i suppose, in the best possible way. in exploring, in beaches, in beans and rice. in plans and caught glances. why was i so happy yesterday? how can i possibly live with my friends spread so far, only to see each other, what? once a year, twice? why think of this now. i guess this is what my time here is for. i need to be more intentional about how i spend that time, or it will all get away from me. and orlando. oh, orlando. if only i could go back without it all being pens and empty glasses, blankets and leaves strewn on the floor. if you go back, you know, expecting it to be the same, it won't be and you'll be disappointed. your tree will be there, your chair, but not the moment. you will have walked and sat and rode and walked back, it will be dark and shadowy.
i want to stay everywhere i go. i want to be rooted again. i hate to disappoint, but i'm not made for this. i hate to disappoint and i'm not made for this. i need a base, i need a crew. i miss my friends whenever they're not around. what's the solution? that's what we've been grappling with. do you reject the past, immerse yourself in a place, and find ways to be happy? i don't; i can't. there's that eternal thread, connecting me to a handful of places i'll never live.
and then i start to miss all night paper writing in the library, laughing fits and speed reading. infuriating meetings and long drives. monday night tv in that house that felt like home with dinner every time. the way i always breathe in the cold behind the warm fall air. the gold of the slanted light. and i have been insanely happy lately. no longer steeled against memory, i spose. letting it wash over me and recede. i am frightened to forget.
so now i will start keeping track of the days again. i will read and write, i will knit. i will organize, sort through, rearrange. i will write letters. i will swim and see doctors. i will have visits and long talks, meaningful walks. and when i leave, i will miss home.
don't let this scare you; i'm not getting lost.
it's a bit late to begin an '09 reflection. but this year is already getting away from me, i suppose, in the best possible way. in exploring, in beaches, in beans and rice. in plans and caught glances. why was i so happy yesterday? how can i possibly live with my friends spread so far, only to see each other, what? once a year, twice? why think of this now. i guess this is what my time here is for. i need to be more intentional about how i spend that time, or it will all get away from me. and orlando. oh, orlando. if only i could go back without it all being pens and empty glasses, blankets and leaves strewn on the floor. if you go back, you know, expecting it to be the same, it won't be and you'll be disappointed. your tree will be there, your chair, but not the moment. you will have walked and sat and rode and walked back, it will be dark and shadowy.
i want to stay everywhere i go. i want to be rooted again. i hate to disappoint, but i'm not made for this. i hate to disappoint and i'm not made for this. i need a base, i need a crew. i miss my friends whenever they're not around. what's the solution? that's what we've been grappling with. do you reject the past, immerse yourself in a place, and find ways to be happy? i don't; i can't. there's that eternal thread, connecting me to a handful of places i'll never live.
and then i start to miss all night paper writing in the library, laughing fits and speed reading. infuriating meetings and long drives. monday night tv in that house that felt like home with dinner every time. the way i always breathe in the cold behind the warm fall air. the gold of the slanted light. and i have been insanely happy lately. no longer steeled against memory, i spose. letting it wash over me and recede. i am frightened to forget.
so now i will start keeping track of the days again. i will read and write, i will knit. i will organize, sort through, rearrange. i will write letters. i will swim and see doctors. i will have visits and long talks, meaningful walks. and when i leave, i will miss home.
don't let this scare you; i'm not getting lost.