Thursday, December 20, 2007

anatomy of a transition

Have you ever heard anyone ask the question "what would you do if you knew you'd die tomorrow?" This little thought exercise gets people thinking about what's important and what to do when you know there's little time to do it.
It's a little how I feel these days. What would you do if you were leaving the country in two weeks? A rather ridiculous comparison, I know. It's not as though I'm dying or anything crazy like that. But there is a sense that that imminent and semi-permanent separation creates the same sense of urgency. Perhaps it's an overreaction. Perhaps it's the paralytic transitionness impending. Perhaps I'm just being a big baby.

It feels as though I'm walking out on my life, unplugging from all my friends and family, boarding a plane and crossing the globe for a sea of time so large I can't begin to see the other side, and as the imminence and immensity of the whole thing bears down on me, the separation smacks of death, albeit falsely.

So my friend, if I seem a bit urgent to love you and spend time with you, at least you'll have a hint of why, and can hope, as I do, that it's a better way to deal with transition than disengaging early from all my relationships.

Tuesday, December 18, 2007

Between the going and the coming home

I'm not really a very good writer, but I try sometimes. I mean I don't have any trouble with writing about something, I can word my thoughts there easily enough, but I'm pretty much atrocious at actually expressing my self, my feelings, my... well, yeah. But I try sometimes, and I feel like that's probably good for me. So I'll try to do some of that.

It seems I'm always going, here to here and there to here. It doesn't seem to matter much which way I go today, it's always, always going, and never coming home. Not sure where home really is anymore, if ever I can say I was. Today I strike a new direction, one I've not gone before. Far as the stop is on the other end, it does promise I can stay a while. But despite the distance or duration, I'm ever caught between the going and the coming home.