Hurry up and wait...

The time between now and then...

I remember this feeling as early as childhood. The nagging hurry up and wait that encompasses most big events in life. I specifically remember my mom and dad telling me that we had an hour until we could leave to see the Arbaugh's over a weekend. Sitting in front of the TV in the living room, I was certain they had misspoke when what they said was an hour felt, most assuredly like a decade. I was all ready to go! Did my parents not understand? I had my bags packed and my appetite for the baggie of sugar cereal I was not allowed at home was roaring! As the seconds ticked by slowly, the anticipation of getting on the road swelled so frantically in my being that it was almost more than I could stand!

Entertaining, isn't it, that this feeling exists at every age. Sure, the muses that initiate this response change as the maturity thermometer reaches higher temperatures, but, the feeling remains the same. The big difference being that now, an hour only feels long when it's consumed with undesirable activities. Funny how that works out, or doesn't, as it were.

So today, I find myself waiting. I hurried up and now I am waiting. Patience is a virtue that I am continually faced with my need to obtain. Keep them coming, folks...positive thoughts and vibes of any nature are much appreciated!

Beyond the Gate

Stomping new grounds...

Many movies, most of which, I have admittedly never seen, begin with a character pushing through an old rusty gate and delicately stepping into the world beyond. As the character tip toes through the newly discovered habitat, she pauses abruptly when she hears the call of a creature far above her. Eyes darting back and forth, breath audible and labored, the character takes a moment to collect herself and then ventures forward. By the time the credits begin to role, this maiden is comfortable in her "new" land and has an almost unbelievable attachment to not only the land but her fellow inhabitants as well.

Although my upcoming move to Florida will not include learning to speak in clicks while riding a half lion, half seagull monstrosity, the standard gate does still exist. My hands will need to wrap around the iron and push, at some point, out of my life here in Muncie and into my life in the sunshine state. While I don't want to create, in my mind, an over importance of this move, I do want to have reverence for what it means for my life.

Flowing and violently bouncing between peace, happiness, terror, anxiety and back to peace since the moment the decision was made, I have learned a thing or two about life changes. And so, naturally, I have provided a short list of precautions and blessings for others to keep in mind:

1. Pick a song that you know will inspire you to keep plugging toward the goal and listen to it often. I have found this technique particularly useful when the urge to pack myself in a box without regard to where I may end up, bubbles to the surface.

2. Don't place a higher level of importance on the move than necessary. You are not the president and therefore, your location in this country doesn't have much significance. Except, of course, to the ones you love and love you. In that case, things will figure themselves out because where there is love...there are free visits to the beach. (if you are the president and have stumbled upon my blog, you may omit this particular number from your list. Oh, and I love you and think you're amazing.)

3. Expect everything in regards to mail and change of address to go wrong because it will. Smile knowing that for at least the six months it takes the USPS to catch up with your forwarding address card, the Urban Outfitters magazine you never signed up for, will cease.

4. Get comfortable not having a damn clue what the next couple of months holds. When people ask the question, "What are you going to do in ________?" begin to laugh wildly with a crazy look in your eye until the questioning ceases. Take comfort in the fact that people have left their jobs before to pursue much more eclectic dreams than your own. Like the people who sell deer urine to hunters...imagine telling that to your friends.

5. Finally, just laugh it off and remember that life is life. No matter if you wake up happy or sad, in the place where you want to be or in a place where you don't, the world keeps turning. Be a person of substance and just have fun, no matter where you are or what you're occupying your time with!

In case there was confusion...

Just to be clear...

If you behave in a way that makes you look like a ridiculous child, I will treat you as one. You may be shocked by the degree to which I will hold to this resolve. Many lessons have been learned along the way and I would be a ridiculous child if I failed to set those into motion.

The Beginning...

And first, you must be quiet...

I began reading a book for leisure tonight. The first book I've read in months. And for the first time since Friday March 12th, my apartment was quiet. And so was my mind. No late night blathering booming from the box in my living room. No feverish checking of various electronic devises manufactured and marketed as ways to connect with others. Just myself and a book. My thoughts consumed not with the swirling nature of the usual mess. Just words jumping off of pages, into the many lobes above my shoulders and through the imagination I have been blessed with.

A recent conversation, centering around the electronic book "Kindle" ended in my uttering passionately that this mechanism "takes the romance out of reading."

As I sprawled by body over my couch in an attempt to relax from the nine hour work day that will bleed into the seventy-two hour work weekend, I stood by my recent claim. As I bent the pages over while attempting to find the perfect position to read without physiological effort, I thought, this is it. This delicate balance of all forces, this smell of the pressed tree pulp, this eyes burning and skin itching with exhaustion, yet need to discover what lies on the next page. This is the romance missing when a true and honest piece of art is replaced with an easy scroll through "pages that look like a real book."

My space was quiet. Restful. My mind followed suite quickly. For this small gift, I find thankfulness brimming this evening.

The tin man

Trading feelings for thinkings...

I have had this dream, for years now, of morphing into someone who just doesn't give a damn. Of harnessing the ability I have witnessed, countless times in others, to simply shut off and be numb. Sounds foolish, I am sure, to dream of being numb, cut off from the part of the brain that feels emotional pain. Even as my fingers glide across the modern and fluid keyboard, I imagine reading these words, if they weren't my own, and scoffing at the ludicrous nature of my little dream.

In reality, I know that I would be less of who I am now if feelings were somewhat of a memory. If I didn't have two big hearts, one to pump life through my veins and one whose seeming role is to pump emotive energy through my system and out of my eye balls, I would be a different person. This I know to be true. So, my dream, like so many, is unrealistic. I continue to pay thousands of dollars in loans to educational institutions and still, no one has taught me to separate.

I attempt to picture boxes on shelves. Lids haphazardly balanced on the top four corners because there is simply too much to fit neatly. Boxes of emotive goo. Full of blurted out phrases and irrational day dreams. Labeling the boxes is where my photographic mind gets stumped. Some of the moments I've attempted to package away would have titles that easily jump from the center of my tongue to the tip and through the lips. Other moments, I would be left searching. An old woman still attempting to grasp the incident fully. If not fully, enough to label.

Although I am able to gaze upon the ones I love dearly and appreciate their emotional goo...I am fed up with my own. When I say, "I don't care." For once, I'd like to mean it. To embody those words to the point of convincing. Just once. For once, when asked if I can help, I want to say "no", plain and simple "no." No explanation needed and if one offered, may it be lack luster and a simple, "Because I don't want to."

Obviously, this will never be me. Those who know me well know that I am incapable of this type of function. But, one can dream, right? One can visualize the grass on the other side, with it's plush, soft, vibrant being.

And for those reading, whom I love with my second heart, I am just fine. This writing just a musing of thoughts once thought. The Avett Brothers "Tin Man" reminds me of how lucky I am to feel. And so...it goes on...

Tin Man

The Avett Brothers

You can't be like me

But be happy that you can't

I see pain but I don't feel it I am like the old tin man

I'm as worn as a stone

I keep it steady as I can

I see pain but I don't feel it I am like the old tin man

I miss it

I miss it

Oh, I miss that feeling of feeling

Blah Blah Blah

"A little less talk and a little more action." Man, that Elvis. Every time. The words before they fall, he catches and illustrates in impeccable style.

The sides of my mouth are sore from all of the explaining I've been doing lately. Out one side and before I know it, words are avalanching down the other side of my chin. It's an alphabet soup situation except without the cute baby and the parent close behind to clean off the chin. And prevent me from looking as if feeding myself is somewhat of a feat these days.

So much of my life and what it consists of is changing in the next few months. Insanely happy, I find myself not remembering that there are individuals whom I love and care for that want to know the whose-its, what's-its and whys-its of my decision. And so..the explanations tumble. Thankfully, most have been overly supportive, laughingly to the degree that I wonder if this was all some master plan that I am being graciously allowed to claim as my own. Some have not been supportive but those individuals are few and far between.

Whew. I think the last in a longer than I deserve line has been satisfied with explanations now. I find a restful place in the midst of the change that quickly, yet slowly approaches.

I suppose, if I were being true to myself and to others, I would cut the explanations down to a digestible, palatable meal of, "I want the beach, the sun and a robot." Something tells me, more individuals in my life would nod in understanding of that explanation than wouldn't.