I woke up this morning knowing that there was one thing I needed to do even though it was the last thing I thought I would do.
Starting today, I'm completely on my own on this soul-searching voyage. I've slightly cringed each time someone tells me that I'm soul-searching but I guess that's what's happening.
After slamming my car wheel and creating beautiful, entrancing poems written entirely out of four-letter words that I'm not sure little children would understand, then after feeling emotionally stoned in Whole Foods, then after realizing people were staring at me not because of my large, unassuming tattoo on my bare shoulder but because I was probably not using my inside voice...I realized that I'm finally looking for something tangible.
This whole trip (and prior to it) I've felt as if I had no idea what I was looking for except that I was looking for something. Maybe it would turn out to be an idea, or a person, or simply what I've told everyone - a place to live.
Now I need a purpose. Maybe I am sick of not having a "home." Maybe I'm sick of driving and looking at forest after forest (the south truly is greener than I'd ever imagined). Maybe now that I've been abandoned and am feeling perfectly betrayed I've started to truly look inwards and question what it is exactly that I'm doing.
I told a friend of one of my couchsurfing hosts here in Birmingham (due to events last night and this morning I have stayed here an extra night) that I'm now looking for a purpose. I'm not sure whether that's just an excuse to volunteer somewhere because the business or organization simply doesn't want to pay me. Or maybe I'm looking for a place to just stop and be unknown and be one of those people that is consistently looked at through one eye and asked, "You're not from here, are you?" Or maybe it's exactly what the man said to me today: "I think this adventure you're on should be entirely about love."
I'm sure after reading his advice, you're questioning my purpose in doing this also.
Tomorrow I'm supposed to travel onwards to Memphis. But what would you do? You have enough money to not have to work for a few months, you have truly zero attachments to anyone, the only thing you know is that you can live anywhere. Surprisingly, even though Birmingham is probably the most boring city I've been to yet, I feel strangely comfortable. The more I think about it, the more I want to just sit down and stay somewhere for awhile. I guess Birmingham and this "abandonment" I experienced this morning are just the impetus (what is the plural form of "impetus"?) for me wanting to grab a comfy seat on one of the badly painted, fly-infested porches here and not move for awhile. Grab a beer, a cigarette, sit and just watch everything go by until I feel like joining the crowd. The funny thing is...I can do that if I want. If someone offered me a great job today I could take it wherever it is. If I met the person I want to be with for the rest of my life then I could just stay there.
Mary Oliver is probably my favorite poet next to ee cummings. I seemed to remember a particularly relevant poem for my position. I've pasted it below and will just turn my computer off, lean back on the longest couch I've ever seen, watch the NBA playoff game before going to see some live music, and walk a little more slowly.
The Journey
One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice --
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
"Mend my life!"
each voice cried.
But you didn't stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do --
determined to save
the only life you could save.
One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice --
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
"Mend my life!"
each voice cried.
But you didn't stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do --
determined to save
the only life you could save.
~ Mary Oliver ~
You've got moxy, and sometimes moxy has to be enough. No one is ever alone unless they choose to be, and I've always felt ever since I met you that you were a person with a bounty of choice. In lots of ways, I wish I could be you...do you what you do...go where you've been, where others dare to tread. I am sorry things didn't go according to your plan, but maybe that happening is more important than ever, now. Best of luck, wherever you land.
ReplyDelete