((promoted by Turing Test! 10ish) – promoted by Turing Test)
Some light streams in through the cracks between the blinds that cover my sliding balcony door. The Winco is a 24-hour store, and the soft yellow lights of the parking lot mesmerize me at times. I like the way the puddles catch the reflections, and send them off at odd angles on their way back up. I’ve lost a couple hours watching this more than once…with a beer, sitting out on the balcony. Every once in a while an occassional tire, shopping cart or shoe passes through those puddles and adds even more variables to the equation as I look on from my 2nd story vantage point, roughly 12 feet up and 10 yards out.
It’s 3:25 AM on a random weekday morning as I type this ‘intro’…and I find myself wide awake as usual at this time. I’ve got work in a few hours, but if I can’t sleep anyway I might as well do something productive with the time. I enjoy the night…the silence, and the lights off…I even see better this way.
More often than not, what keeps me awake these days is thinking back to…well…
It was a strange night…like I almost didn’t realize what was happening. Just like any other Saturday…I’d get up, make some coffee. Some oatmeal. Maybe I didn’t want to think about it. Maybe it was easier that way. Try to maintain some semblance of ‘normalcy’…
But it’s hard not to notice that the place is bare, and everything is packed up. Boxes stay here for now, bags come on the train with me.
Okay, it’s almost time. Now I’ve gotta say goodbye to the only people who’ve ever been there for me. There’s only a few, but they might as well be the only people in the world, as far as I’m concerned. Ah shit, it’s time for that last goodbye…and here come the tears. Whatever, it happens once in a while…
Ride to the train station. Heh…I did it for work every day, it was only a mile. But that last ride there…on that Saturday morning in July…it just took forever. I was taking in everything that I could. Remember this all, and hold onto it. Because this is it, burn it into my mind…
One of my good friends is gonna meet me down there, and we’ll talk until my train comes. And then we’ll say goodbye, too.
He’ll be here soon. Any minute now…
Hmmm…lemme give him a call. Bah! It’s going straight to voicemail. So I’m thinking, and I’m writing in a journal for somebody that I’m sending text messages to at the same time, and I’m texting her about this while I’m also writing to her about this. And I’m also playing that damned PacMan game on my cellphone…and on top of all this, I’m also thinking – “Okay, the train’s gonna be here in a few minutes…where is this bastard?”
He overslept that morning, and the next time I heard from him I was on my second train, somewhere between DC and Chicago. Idiot. Heh…but I’ll finally see him again soon…my longest (surviving) friend…he’s flying out here to visit me in a few weeks. I’ve gotta admit, though – I am really tempted to leave him hanging at PDX for about 16 hours. Heh…
But I won’t. That would be funny, though…
The paradox of being me, is that things work out best when I don’t try at all. The flip-side of that, of course…is that my well-laid plans often betray me. So things didn’t work out quite like I thought they would. Do they ever, really?
No need to get into all of that, though.
Whatever…
That’s just life, and we move on. We’re gonna make it. I know I am, at least.
But I do think about doing it again sometimes. And maybe I’m crazy, but I’m still willing to try to do it over. Somewhere else, anywhere else…
Just leave it all behind, evrything…because it’s bound to work sooner or later. It’s got to, right? This time’ll be easier, I’m certainly not attached to this place. You could even say that I’m closer to free now…
I don’t need much…I’d pack it all in my bag, throw it over my shoulder…lock this place up for the last time. Take the train downtown, walk up to Union Station and jump on a southbound Amtrak train, and I’d ride it as far as I felt like going…put my headphones on, lay back in that seat and let my iPod take me to another place, the one that so far only exists in my fucking head because nothing’s real except for what’s right in front of me…but I can go so many places if I just close my eyes, so many places…and then after I cleared my head enough, I’d get up and I’d walk to the Observation Car, grab a seat and I’d watch Oregon and California roll by out the window…and maybe I’d get off in Oakland (again), or maybe in LA…and then maybe I’d transfer to an eastbound train…or maybe I would have jumped off way up in Redding in the middle of the night, who the hell knows…I’d trust my intuition to know what was right. For once, I’d do what was right. And wherever I ended up, wherever I ended up…I’d walk to the edge of that town and I’d throw my thumb up in the air and catch a ride to wherever it felt right…wherever it looked best…I know I’d just feel it…and that’s where I’d get out, just me and my bag and my head…and I’d do it all the fuck over, right from the beginning. Right from the beginning. There’d be mountains, and there’d be a lake. And there’d be animals. They’d be expecting me, and they’d welcome me. Because they’ve been waiting for this, you see. That’s why they were put there. And the clouds would be ready, too. Oh yeah, they’d know. They wouldn’t spell out my name or anything like that, because that would be too obvious. No. They’d just form that pattern that I’d recognize from all those dreams, all those visions…I’ve had them…all of my life, and they never made any sense. But they would make sense when I got there. It would all just click, right there…and I’d know that I was finally home. Home. I made it. I fucking made it.
So I guess I’m looking for home. I’ve never really had one. Never felt like I truly belonged somewhere. But now I’m wondering – can I just make it the place where I am? I mean, is home just really a state of mind, instead? Maybe I’ve been wrong in thinking of it as a physical place. That place in my dreams is beautiful, and all that I want. But should I spend any more time looking for it? Am I wasting my time doing that? Why not just make it right here? Where I sit right now. I can do it. Here, or anywhere I go…I can just carry it with me. I can do that, because I’m great. I deserve it, and fuck it…I’m gonna give it to myself. Long overdue…
I consider myself lucky for knowing me. If nothing else, I’m a very interesting person. Opinions vary wildly on whether I’m a good “interesting” or not, but regardless I know I’m a good person. My heart’s in the right place. Always has been. And anybody who says otherwise, fuck them.
I’ve finally learned to let it be…
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Anybody here ever really find “Home”?
Tell me – what’s it like?
…where I am comfortable in my own skin and live in peaceful coexistence with my thoughts instead of pushing them away or being assaulted by them.
Place is less relevant.
ymmv
Robyn
promoted by Turing Test? Aren’t we all
Jerome ArmstrongTuring Test?Hardhat Dem – They say home is where the heart is. So if you’re heart is in the right place, then you must be home, right?
My story…
My sis moved to Berkeley when I was in high school and the first time I came out to visit her I knew that I had to live in the Bay Area. But first, there was college in the midwest, grad school in Colorado, and then a post doc overseas. I moved back to Denver for a job and just when I felt like I was losing the initiative and inertia to go further West I met a dude online who was going to school… at UC-Berkeley! Right time, right place, right everything… I leapt at the chance to move out and start a new life with him. And here I am! Mrs. dude at home in … Oakland!
We have been shopping for our first house the past few months, which has been really weird because I have a very hard time feeling the “homeiness” in the places we look at. For me it’s like you can spend all you want on a house but you can’t put a price on a “home”. I guess I’ll know it when I see/feel it. Anyway, with the mortgage crisis and the state of the economy we are putting the house on hold until we see how things shake out. I’m glad to stay put for now.
I’m still looking. Great essay, though, HD. And I loved this, because I agree completely — we’ll know when we find it:
of several poems by Mary Oliver. If you’ve never read her work, I highly recommend it. She has an amazing way of using nature to help us find our way in life. Here’s an example.
the never-ending quest. i don’t believe in time anymore. i just believe that we keep moving past fixed points and if we’d only stay still, then nothing would change…
OTB is right, i think. home is where your heart is. it’s hard to improve on a saying that says it all… so i’ll leave it there.
if we met on the street, i think we would be instant friends.
love your writing and i love feeling the process of your writing. it’s got energy. it’s provocative and it’s personal.
you are now a witr fixture… makes me happy!
love the pickle pictures! you did illustrate for the witr
could you do one for RiaD and OTB too???? when you get time, read Ria’s TaleMaster series … great. and OTB does Trippin Tuesdays…
when you can. no pressure. well, just a little in the request i guess. but i know they would love it!