Saturday, October 1, 2011

here's the answer, what was the question again?

All my life there’s been this pull to forget everything human. I feel like if I don’t drop everything and wander into the wilderness and don’t look back I’ll have wasted my entire life, no matter what I do.

Yet the mundane realities of life, needing food and shelter and companionship, have kept me here so far. Needing to learn things and meet people and to love and be loved, yes, all are important. So is keeping my commitments—job, lover, pets, family, friends. But I’m sliding more and more, and it seems like when I do go crazy I’ll finally be at peace, because no one else will understand but that’s ok, I’ll just be gone and that’ll be it.

I have no plan. I just need to get out there and wander and see the world and just be, and somehow survive while I do it.

Why do I need to survive? Technically I’m doing it just fine as is—I have a solid home and way to support myself, I have a little bitty community to support me; we’re still not sure about the babies thing. In any case…

Why do I have to do it the old way? Why do I need to learn for myself how to stalk a turkey or deer and skin it and smoke the meat and make my own clothes and learn what to forage and what to avoid and how to hole up for the winter, to make snowshoes and thick fur everything to survive those nights far below zero. Why endure storms and heat when I can be comfortable inside?

Because it’s the right way to do it. It’s the way we always used to do it, and it was good enough. Now I obsess over things that don’t matter at all, like smartphones and what I’m wearing. How is how I look going to save my ass from a bear? Dear gravy am I wired strangely.

Or maybe not. I don’t know. I just know that I need to wander off into the wild and survive… and then somehow life will be better? I’ll finally know what the fuck I’m looking for? This came on before third grade too, before fourth grade and our Native American unit in class and reading Hatchet by Gary Paulsen. This was here, in my head, ever since I betrayed my first-grade friend because she was moving away anyway, what’s the point of sticking with someone who’s just going to be gone forever. I’ve always been lonely since then, I don’t even remember her name.

What crazy spirit bopped me on the head and said, “Tag you’re it”? Why did those pine woods just by our elementary school feel like the place where I should have stayed, and wandered into a forest that doesn’t exist anymore? Crows were always there, sandy soil and red pines and trails among the almost dunes in that far part.

I almost did it too. Slowly wandered away after school with a walking stick and then Dad finally saw me going down the sidewalk towards home because I thought I’d better pick the lock on the house so I can pack up what I’ll need to survive. I was very ashamed and couldn’t speak. No wonder I can’t leave now.

Of course I’m a good little human. Well-trained and well-bred, quiet mostly, tries to be the smart kid they tagged me for when I was little and out-reading everyone else (even the other kids in Junior Achievement lagged behind me, I still don’t understand why the teachers didn’t approve of me reading so fast and well if I was so good at it).

Seems I don’t stick with anything for long. Either I wasn’t trained enough in diligence or I just don’t have the knack for it, rather be out wandering and staring at pretty sunsets.

Maybe I’ll find somewhere to homestead, and we’ll have acres and acres to roam freely. I can go camping in my own backyard. I really doubt that though, it’s not the same. It would be a prettier sort of cage rather than the freedom to wander as I will.

how to fuck do I reconcile all this?

Monday, February 28, 2011

Quiet persistence

Blog, what blog? Hah.

No really, I finally have something to write about! ...strangely enough, it *wasn't* the fact that a certain Guy surprised me and I now rock a shiny, shiny ring on a regular basis. ;)

At the moment:
Said Guy is completely absorbed with repairs which aren't going so well, so the mood here is that quiet expectancy with a tinge of apprehension, just waiting for another curse to fly out from down the hall. Occasionally he'll rush in, grab a needed tool or consult the online tutorial, and head back to mutter and poke at his machinery some more. In short, he's busy and I'm bored. So it was back to my regular list of food blogs to see if anyone had updated recently--and one of them did.

I love Just Hungry and its sister site, Just Bento. I love Japanese food, I love the neat way things are arranged just so, I love learning about new cooking techniques and ingredients I can hardly pronounce.

About halfway down in today's most recent post in Just Bento, Maki shares with us the blog of a Japanese salaryman. Instead of painstakingly created charaben (showing, perhaps, an entire cast of Hello Kitty characters on a picnic) or the latest in haute bento cuisine, it's the simple tale told by one picture a day, every day, for seven years. Every day his wife makes him a bento for lunch. He takes a picture, writes down what's in his box that day, and that's it.

Seven years!

I can only hope that S. and I can have a connection like that. Part of me thinks that it's the kind of story you'd hear about a grandparent or great-aunt-somebody, with that quiet persistence you hardly notice until they're gone. I am glad there are still people out there who can do that. In a world that seems to get faster and more disjointed all the time, it's good to see that there are those of us who, day in and day out, do what we do, and it is enough.

Sunday, January 30, 2011

locked in a cage of my own making

I think all this big-city living is taking its toll.

Like my last post indicated, I'm at somewhat of a lull in life. Well, looking for a job is busy work enough, but after a young lifetime that centers around school and having been provided this structure, I'm floating a bit, getting used to life outside of this system.

Imbolc is a strange time of year. I mean, spring in general is just weird, what with the melting and refreezing and the mud and struggling for a hint of sunshine, but February is always a drag. Bright, and still ice cold and burning all at once. Yet this year I look forward to the holiday, for it means seeing my Protogrove again. It means getting out of a landscape dominated by buildings and car exhaust and roadside trees struggling to live ten years; my spiritual side needs resuscitation. Combined with *finally* having my room at my new apartment cleaned up and furnished enough to live in (and I moved in at the beginning of the month--ugh), things may hopefully settle into some kind of order.

I need to be outside more. Love him though I do I find it unfortunate that my boyfriend doesn't much care for outdoors activities, so that really hampers my ability to get away into the country or woods. Closest I get nowadays is when my Protogrove meets for a holiday, and even then it's inside during the cold months. I haven't been to the local foam-fighting practice these past few Sundays and I really wanted to today, but the guy who organizes them is out of town for the weekend.

sometimes I think I should just head out to some lonely place by a river with only a knife and some clothes and live that way for a summer. Forget this life dominated by bright screens and doors with locks, I need the sun.

though if I could, I'd bring my recorder. A little music would be nice, and I could practice all I'd like with no one to complain about the noise. I'd sing more too.

Friday, January 7, 2011

life on hold?

Ever hear the one that goes "life is what happens when you're making other plans"? I think that's about the size of it.

In any case, I am supposedly graduated from college and have decided that graduate school is not the right direction for me at the moment. I'm full of uncertainties. Not sure what I would study, where I would go, how it would affect my nicely stable relationship, how I'd pay for it... so I'm working on getting a job and finishing the moving-in process at a new apartment.

Before all this I had a lovely week with my family doing the whole Christmas bit, and this time Mom was more understanding and just let my sister and I each bring a book to read during the long Christmas eve service; the which they made us go to under the guise of us doing them the favor of attending for politeness' sake. No thanks, still not Christian.
Seeing my extended family--both sides even!--was wonderful, as some of them I haven't seen for years. Sitting together and just being with them was enough to make me feel connected, a wonderful sense of belonging and togetherness.

Which reminds me: I still need to call my aunt and get together for lunch or something next week. It turns out that my friend's apartment which I recently moved into is just blocks away from my aunt! I've always like my Aunt K. She's independent, opinionated, and generous (to me anyway; she was my godmother after all) and I have fond memories of the little family vacations we took up to the Cities to go visit her. Going to the huge Science Museum, eating at restaurants serving food from faraway countries, seeing art museums and spending all day out in a huge park... we always had fun with my aunt. I'm glad to live so near someone in my family, especially since we've been rather distant lately.

Being a graduate is strange--I guess I'm not sure what life without classes would really be like. Really, you spend most of your life in school and then BAM. Whole new world.
In theory I was really looking forward to not having homework, but looking for a job is a job in and of itself! I hadn't thought that I'd have to write a new resume for every kind of job I apply for (not that I mind writing that much, just how long it takes because I get so picky), though it makes sense to tailor how I present myself to each company I want to impress. Plus, I've never had to write a resume for a customer service position before, and it's very different from the mostly science-y one I've been crafting for on-campus lab positions. The difficult part is tearing myself away from video games and fun with friends to sit down and do it :P

I guess I've also gotten lazy with anything resembling regular spiritual practice. Moving into a new apartment with not quite enough shelving to store all my crap means I haven't gotten a new altar set up yet, and I think I want to do something different than just the top of the dresser again. Having a whole new room to decorate as I please means I could do all kinds of things, like having little mini-shrines in different locations... ooh. Who knew writing about how I don't know what to do gives me ideas! ^^ though lacking a job means lacking funds to acquire said furniture/shelving/what have you. I guess I'll have to hurry up and get hired somewhere then.

In the meantime, I'll try again for regular meditation. No special materials required, and it's still something I haven't been able to do for more than a few months at most at a time.