Latere

I’ve been on the fritz lately.  A little light-headed, a little bit spaced-out (as in, cadet) and a lit of bit restless.  The spring is creeping in and the weather is getting warmer and the sun’s been shining on my face and beckoning me out.  It teases and charms, but by itself, it’s a  pale and gaunt mistress.  When set against the backdrop of my Now, it just barely coaxes me away from the impending funk I can feel floating just beyond my periphery.

There’s a Despair that looms just around the corner and I’ve got to be careful to keep on moving so that it can’t close the distance.  In it’s lint-filled pocket, a grimy hand closes around a cancerous pit of an idea:  “What if we never get out of here?”  I make desperate lists of places that I want to see, that can take me away for a day or two or four at a time, knowing that my light grows the further and longer I’m apart from this succubus of a town—like the wick on a gaslamp turned up against the darkness.

How many hours to the coast?  The Oregon Coast?  Would it be easier from here? Or a plane ride.  Yes!  A farther jaunt.  An accumulation of frequent flyer miles.  How much to Salt Lake?  Or Phoenix, or San Diego?  It’s awe that I need/crave/thirst for….to be struck dumb….to have an experience that will whitewash this mildew-ridden mediocrity that I’ve been living.  This isn’t HOME and my soul is once again reaching out, grasping for worth and gasping for air.

Don’t ask what it is that will satisfy.  Some days, I imagine that its scent floats on the wind ahead of it, like lilac blooms on early spring mornings.  Others, it’s a train that I run along side, reaching hard as I sprint, only to have the bars just touch my fingertips as it pulls away.  I feel like I am losing time–just missing something that is obvious and grand.  Too little too late for the party that everyone else will be raving about on Monday.

There is something out there just for me, and it beckons…a flickering light through the fog.  I’m squinting very hard now, but can’t make it out.  I’m wishing for a sign, a star, a sigh or a glimpse.  Something.  Anything.  A hint or a clue that I’ll get there and that the journey and unease are merely the tickets to ride.

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17 thoughts on “Latere

  1. Man, I feel this sometimes myself. I pull on the interstate and want to keep going and going…

    Today, we went. On a short trip with friends. And Spring…Spring, I am so glad to see you, I want to kiss you full on the mouth….(my FB status for Sunday…)

  2. This is really beautiful. Thanks for sharing it.

    “I feel like I am losing time–just missing something that is obvious and grand.”

    This feeling has been creeping in and out of my awareness for as long as I can remember. Feels better when it’s creeping out…

  3. Ugh- just be glad you’re not in the midwest! I’ve been in a similar funk and it’s the ocean- any ocean that beckons my soul. I’m hoping to one day live by the ocean, but for now am seriously contemplating moving back to Indianapolis to be with my son for the next 5 years (until he graduates high school).

    I think about you, often, yawps- even if I don’t make it over to your blog as much as I’d like. You have an incredible way with words. Seriously- incredible! Maybe your words can take you out of your longing and closer to where you desire. Also, maybe when this damn “super-moon” is over, we will all magically emerge from our funks and appear all shiny and new;)

    • I’m not sure about more eloquently, but I am still grateful that you enjoy what I have to say. I think we’ve got a pretty healthy serving of mutual respect going back and forth. Makes me happy.

  4. Well, we are planning to stay in Portland this upcoming weekend if you and John do not have any plans….Timmah’s birthday is Thursday so figure be a Timmah celebration in Portland. I think what you need is to travel more this summer. Go to San Diego, Utah, New York, or wherever you feel like you need to go. I think that is how I break the monotony in my head. I guess Rugby has granted me that. It pains me when people here in Kitsap county say they need to get out of this place and somewhere else to put their roots. I love where I live, I have great friends here, my family is here and I love the area. I guess going to Portland, Eugene, Corvallis, Missoula, and the trip back to the Philippines and to New York makes me miss home. Of course home is wherever you make it and as long as I have my wife and kids with me I make the best of any situation. I can vouch that Michelle and I miss you and John dearly. You both have been great friends to us, I’m just glad you guys are still within driving distance for us. If you guys end up moving even farther away, just like all the others (Hank, Will, Rae, Bobbo, Jaz, soon to be Nate and Big), I feel a little piece of me leaves. Thank goodness for Twitter and Facebook, the only way I get my time with all that are not here and others that soon will be not here. If you need to get away we will swap you for the rest of the boys and you can hang with the ladies in Seattle while the boys and I burn down the tri-cities with John.

  5. What if I never get out of here? Well hah. I love it. (btw, you just described the doomed feeling of motherhood perfectly… fortunately there are some upsides).

    Look at Ollie’s comment… it is practically a grocery list of names… those must be people who love you and know you. Isn’t it funny? They know things about you that you don’t realize. They remember things. They love things about you that you forgot you ever did.

    The chaos of life — and the certainty of love — makes that fucking sloppy wet mush I stuck my foot in this morning manageable.

  6. I know this feeling so well. The whole time that I spent on Colorado, I felt I was on foreign soil. It was never the place I belonged, and I was there for ten years. “just missing something that is obvious and grand.” That particularly spoke to me. I still feel that way, as I don’t know that I am yet where I am supposed to be. I am supposed to be closer to the coast or something.

    This was really poignant, Jen. Thank you for putting these feelings into words.

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