I have never slept too comfortably in the bed of life.
It's very strange, this odd feeling of homelessness even though I'm not in fact homeless. I think if I actually were, things would be easier, perhaps by a minuscule degree... the trouble is, in large part, the feeling of being tethered to the land even where I'm not. But I am happy. Full to the brim with travel plans and travel plans and travel plans, and so many images waiting to blossom into experiences. And hopes. And Chinese books and Chinese poems and dead Chinese men and women and their words and their language and their earth.
...and like everyone who makes a major life change, I am thinking of all the ways I can make this new life a different one and with the same determination as anyone else who arrives at a somewhat clean-seeming slate, I think to myself, I will make everything better. I will be better. All I need is to start over.
That isn't how it goes, as any outsider can tell. But I think we need to tell ourselves that, at least for a time.
Meanwhile, I collect what I have left of New Orleans, take it with me and move on. There are a few accomplishments. Personal relationships, I realize, are not my strong suit. I doubt that will get better any time soon. I have loved. I have been in love. I have fallen out of love. I have stopped loving. I have continued to love in very casual ways. I have learned about people. But only in a way that makes me love them, and draws me away from them at the same time. I have known and loved people best at a certain distance.
I have begun to think of myself as a sort of nun, and have surprised myself, that I'm okay with it. I wonder if the feeling will last. Kind of hope it does.
...and like everyone who makes a major life change, I am thinking of all the ways I can make this new life a different one and with the same determination as anyone else who arrives at a somewhat clean-seeming slate, I think to myself, I will make everything better. I will be better. All I need is to start over.
That isn't how it goes, as any outsider can tell. But I think we need to tell ourselves that, at least for a time.
Meanwhile, I collect what I have left of New Orleans, take it with me and move on. There are a few accomplishments. Personal relationships, I realize, are not my strong suit. I doubt that will get better any time soon. I have loved. I have been in love. I have fallen out of love. I have stopped loving. I have continued to love in very casual ways. I have learned about people. But only in a way that makes me love them, and draws me away from them at the same time. I have known and loved people best at a certain distance.
I have begun to think of myself as a sort of nun, and have surprised myself, that I'm okay with it. I wonder if the feeling will last. Kind of hope it does.