Thursday, December 20, 2007

"there's a boat on the reef with a broken back...."

I've been reading a wonderful autobiography by the writer Eudora Welty (One Writer's Life). In one passage she is describing how childhood tantrums didn't erupt in her hitting other people, but hitting other objects or putting herself in perilous situations, usually hurting herself in the process. She then wrote one of the best sentences I've seen in a long time, stating simply,
'I was responsible for scenes.'

I'm feeling a little of that these days in my own head and heart. Emotions around a leaving of this nature has welled up aged stuff of panoramic proportions. Its kind of like being in an IMAX movie where I'm unable to avert my eyes or ears from the conjured images that I alone am responsible for..and therefore am responsible for quelling. It's exhausting.

The irony is that the emotion I most attach to here is abandonment -- even though it's me that's leaving. Tricky sediment.....deep, deep layers that forge our foundations..you never really know when the cracks will surface, you just know that they're there. Where's that cement trowel when you need it?

I emailed a friend and said I wish I could just leave now...this sort of limbo is becoming frustrating I think mainly in the talking about it. I'm trying not to bring it up anymore with anyone new..but I know a lot of fucking people..and if people don't know that I'm doing this walk through me or someone else, than they know I've left Sisters and are curious as to what I'm up to. I try minimalist responses at this point..sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't 'cause I'm not much of a liar or a hedger. Someone yesterday asked me if I was travelling with my time off. "Yes." Which inevitably leads to "where to," and I can't seem to just say, "oh, you know..here and there." I should..it's a perfectly appropriate response. Think I'll try that next time. It's nothing they're doing, folks are curious, I would be too..and it's my own damn fault for talking about it so much initially.

It's becoming hard to talk I think because I just don't have a bead on an answer at all anymore. It changes on a minute by minute basis. It actually feels a lot like early recovery, I'm that emotionally scattered. I got into Joan's truck today and just ranted from one side of Portland to the other. Thanks Joan - love ya.

So...I don't know people. It's all so good..it's scary and exciting and every one's responses have been so encouraging and sweet and loving..some bordering on envy for me getting to do this. We all are just doing our own thing..there's a lot you guys are doing that I would give all of this up for in a heartbeat.

I think I've always just been searching for something. This is not the first time I've left home to seek some sort of solace in the unknown. Not even the second or third.

At some point I just want to nestle into it and be home.
Yeah, that's it.

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