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back from my drive across country. 3 days on sturgeon bay, which connects green bay and lake michigan. cool little town, too, sturgeon bay wisconsin. i rode a boat for most of a day, a much-needed fix of great lakes air, copper-blue water, sun and blue sky (i grew up on the other side of lake michigan, and i will always love the great lakes. they are the only thing about that region that feels like "home" to me anymore). then 3 days in the car spent talking with my friend J, who is a poet, an intellectual, and a conversationalist (like me he's an aquarius, so it's probably just that we like to talk about the same things--not that we actually agree on very many of them, mind you). big, flat, open stretches of space punctuated by pockets of beauty. badlands in north dakota. burnt mountainsides in montana, glimpsed through a smoke haze. big blue sky stretched over impossible rock formations. eastern washington's desolation, dust devils hundreds of feet tall scouring incomprehensibly huge stretches of freshly tilled soil and no trees in sight, till gradually the fields green with irrigation's help and the fruit trees appear, then the oddly wet, wide ribbon of the columbia river winding through sagebrush-dappled hills. the water is just passing through, none of it seems to stay, it's like a desert mirage. suddenly, craggy peaks, douglas firs. mt. rainier's quiet volcanic threat (from the east you can see that 3-4,000 feet of summit was blasted off at some point), mt. index chewing sky to the north. and i realize that the cascades are the most beautiful mountains i've ever seen. finally, the emerald city. and i live here. this is home.
meanwhile, in the car, a near continual consumption of chex mix, chocolate teddy grahams, potato chips, peanut m&m's, baby carrots, bottles of water, bananas, containers of yogurt and peanut butter sandwiches (he had salami and the bland orange cheese wisconsin is famous for), woven together with conversation about this and that, jokes, funny stories, philosophical concepts, hypothetical questions, and the personal works-in-progress we all are. and of course, the obligatory getting on of nerves. all with a soundtrack of "good time oldies" on the radio (because what else is there in the middle of no fucking where?), tapes of poets reading and garage bands grinding, jesus christ superstar (yes really, for crying out loud) and car noise. these conversations, the countryside rolling by, and just all of it, have stirred up a bunch of muck that had settled at the bottom of my brain, thoughts, desires, and feelings i haven't acknowledged or expressed for so long, and indeed had talked myself out of *having* anymore. i'm too old, my life is too complicated, i can't hope for this or reach for that so i might as well content myself with this other thing instead. piss poor excuses. life avoidance. fear of intimacy, vulnerability and abandonment. fear of confrontation, of standing up and owning hopes, dreams, priorities, and regrets too. don't forget those, they exist, and like any other wound they will fester if ignored. i have many ducks to coax back into rows. some of them toy with me, peeking out of the muck only to say "quack!" when they see me seeing them, then they dive back in, their tail feathers always just out of reach. and of course it's the ducks i most need to put my hands on, that are the most elusive, so i have no choice but to wade in after them and fish them out. isn't that always the way?
i have some big, unavoidable changes to make, soon. i have this "self-heart-soul" thing that needs a stern talking to, about not forgetting hard-won lessons from the past, about not losing sight of the things that really matter, the priorities, the must-do's and the must-have's. but i think it needs a little kindness, too. it has been through a lot (shall i compose a list? no...it's no more dramatic than anyone else's, i'm sure), and it needs shelter. so i have to be tough but nice, an iron fist in a velvet glove. there are good things stirring me up too, inciting anarchy among the ducks: glimmers of "worth the effort" from a pair of green eyes that seem to see everything. friends who don't mind what a dorky freak i am (lol--or am i flattering myself?). and what have i done to deserve any of that?
meanwhile, in the car, a near continual consumption of chex mix, chocolate teddy grahams, potato chips, peanut m&m's, baby carrots, bottles of water, bananas, containers of yogurt and peanut butter sandwiches (he had salami and the bland orange cheese wisconsin is famous for), woven together with conversation about this and that, jokes, funny stories, philosophical concepts, hypothetical questions, and the personal works-in-progress we all are. and of course, the obligatory getting on of nerves. all with a soundtrack of "good time oldies" on the radio (because what else is there in the middle of no fucking where?), tapes of poets reading and garage bands grinding, jesus christ superstar (yes really, for crying out loud) and car noise. these conversations, the countryside rolling by, and just all of it, have stirred up a bunch of muck that had settled at the bottom of my brain, thoughts, desires, and feelings i haven't acknowledged or expressed for so long, and indeed had talked myself out of *having* anymore. i'm too old, my life is too complicated, i can't hope for this or reach for that so i might as well content myself with this other thing instead. piss poor excuses. life avoidance. fear of intimacy, vulnerability and abandonment. fear of confrontation, of standing up and owning hopes, dreams, priorities, and regrets too. don't forget those, they exist, and like any other wound they will fester if ignored. i have many ducks to coax back into rows. some of them toy with me, peeking out of the muck only to say "quack!" when they see me seeing them, then they dive back in, their tail feathers always just out of reach. and of course it's the ducks i most need to put my hands on, that are the most elusive, so i have no choice but to wade in after them and fish them out. isn't that always the way?
i have some big, unavoidable changes to make, soon. i have this "self-heart-soul" thing that needs a stern talking to, about not forgetting hard-won lessons from the past, about not losing sight of the things that really matter, the priorities, the must-do's and the must-have's. but i think it needs a little kindness, too. it has been through a lot (shall i compose a list? no...it's no more dramatic than anyone else's, i'm sure), and it needs shelter. so i have to be tough but nice, an iron fist in a velvet glove. there are good things stirring me up too, inciting anarchy among the ducks: glimmers of "worth the effort" from a pair of green eyes that seem to see everything. friends who don't mind what a dorky freak i am (lol--or am i flattering myself?). and what have i done to deserve any of that?
