between here and there

I don't feel much like working today. Thankfully my machine crashed a lot and they bought me a new one, and I spent a good portion of the day loading new programs on it and then configuring everything, and then pretending that I had to do an awful lot more of the same.

You know the feeling that you're leaving something, but in a slow way. I feel like that, and it is more than one thing that I'm leaving. It feels like a lot of things. I've never been in the South, and I've certainly never been there in the summer, but I have a feeling of what it's like from reading Carson McCuller's and Flannery O'Connor. I feel like I'm walking down a dusty road on a hot summer day, but it's the end of the day, so it's only kind of hot. It alternates from no trees to a canopy of trees over me as I walk away from someplace. The road is flat so I can see behind me for a very long before I can ever see anything new in front of me. yet I know something is there, something is in front of me, I am walking towards it. There's a sense of desolation and also elation. Loneliness and possibility.

It feels like a Steinbeck story too. The west coast nostalgic melancholy feels different than the southern...since I'm from the coast I guess it feels more like that then. Kind of like all of the saddness of the Steinbeck stories rolled into one, and then all of the hopefulness rolled into one, too.

I am in an office with about seven other people and they are so present and my body is here and I am typing, but I am so far away. There's a Patty Larkin song playing that doesn't make it any easier to be here, I told him that my dog didn't run.... really the whole album is keeping me aloft in my own world.

I have a restlessness about me that I have to explore. My mind is on my Reiki/healing practice that I'm starting, and a part of me is wondering, what next after that. A bigger office, a bookstore, retreats, classes, a book or two I'll write. And my life. I feel a great desire to expand my community. I love my circle of friends, yet I've felt a need for more. There are parts of my personality that need to be exercised and so I need to meet some more folks.

More. There is a period of 'more' that I am coming upon. Not that more is necessarily a good thing all of the time, but I've been withdrawn for a few years now, and a time reaching out is needed, hell it's coming to get me.

I feel like a wanderer in a time when wandering is out of vogue. On a planet where folks are trying their hardest to find something that won't move, to stand upon, protect them, and not change, I'm barely in a town before I'm asking if the next one has a cool cafe to sit in and sip a coffee and write in my journal while a good folk guitarist sings us songs. I feel comfortable in motion (or see the promise of it), yet I'd like to spend time in a beautiful woman's arm's awhile, yet she'd have to like perpetual movement too...how do you do that...I guess it's called dancing.