Unmoored

(Art by Nichola Moss)

I'm not lost, but I definitely feel unmoored. And I have a hunch that is ok. I have lines I can throw to a dock if and when I decide to set foot ashore again. It's not all drifting in bliss of course, being unmoored means being susceptible to storms, high seas and monsters of the deep. Terror and exhilaration are once again intertwined. And in the midst of the two I find myself acutely aware of minutia. An impossibly long eyelash resting on my son's cheek. The sheen of a taut and new apple. Dust in the sunshine. The sensation of being enveloped by steam in the shower. Cloth against skin. The texture of strawberries. The space between breaths.

I feel in touch with it all, my senses awash with the connectedness. Minutes take days.

There have been dark clouds, lightning flashes, crashes of thunder. I was naive to think I could avoid them. I am suddenly aware of the depths beneath me. But turning back to shore doesn't feel right. For better or worse I'm unmoored NOW. And now is really all I can focus on for the moment.

The days do pass though, and things happen in each one. For instance, I have a new job. Another one that I had not interviewed with before called and invited me in on a Wednesday morning. That very night they called and offered me a great position doing what I want to be doing. I gave my notice the next day, my last day is Thursday, February 28. My first day isn't until March 10. I'm going to enjoy some more of these long long minutes in between.

I managed 12 miles yesterday. I say managed because I didn't run all of them, I did 5 minute 1 minute run/walk intervals. With a couple of extra walking bits on two truly brutal hills (West on McLendon towards Little 5 Points and up N. Highland through Old Fourth Ward towards downtown). I had fallen very far off the wagon in the two weeks previous, so far that all I could see of it was a dust cloud in the distance. I managed a couple of mornings of Tae-Bo videos but that was all. Very unfocused. Still, I did the 12 miles, in a not totally unrespectable time (2:39). A sub 3 hour half is still attainable. I wore my ipod for the first time during a run because I was alone for all of it. I actually enjoyed it, it was really reflective, I have a lot of bluesy and soulful stuff on my ipod at the moment and it all fit. Running through classic Atlanta neighborhoods, many of them scenes out of my life, and just BEING in my own skin. I finally found a glorious downhill at the end turning right off Glen Iris onto Ralph McGill with my car off in the distance just as Unwritten by Natasha Bedingfield came on. That song, top 40 and all, is totally my mantra at the moment, I couldn't believe the timing. I flew down the hill, my soul fluttering in the brisk wind. And to top it all off I think one of my toenails is dying! I can't tell if its turning black or not because of the nail polish but it totally feels kind of loose and dead. How cool is that? Jennifer Daniels has a song where she talks about scars being the tattoos that God designs for people to remind them of significant moments. I think that is so true, and that is definitely what my tattoos mean for me. Its also why I like scars and quirky injuries so much, seeing wounds like that transports you instantly to the moment you received them. In my case each one feels like I've earned something through the pain.

Finally, the house will officially be listed tomorrow. It is all pristine at the moment, ready for the first wave of potential buyers. As right as I know letting go of the house IS, I know I will cry at the closing table. And then I'll go to wherever my new home is and I'll appreciate some more of those long minutes. I'm learning, finally, how little I really need to be happy.

Passing through Between

I missed bootcamp again yesterday morning. I initially went to sleep Monday night but something woke me after only an hour and I began to mentally and emotionally freak out over various issues in my life. I was borderline panic attack for half the night. I kept counseling myself to breathe and to focus on what IS good in my life but it was a very long and challenging night. I finally dropped off just a bit before my bootcamp alarm clock went off. I was scheduled to spend the day assisting my boss and it would have been very very bad for me to have dozed off during all the sitting and listening that my day would involve. So I opted to get the extra two hours of sleep. I don’t think that was the wrong decision but I kept having this nagging feeling that I had forgotten something all day. And I hated feeling so subject to the whims of my night terrors, irrational or rational.

My day involved a trip to Monroe, GA. To get to Monroe, I had to drive through a town called Between. I passed the Between Grocery. The Between Baptist Church. Ho Hum Hollow Rd. I wondered what it was like to live in Between. Do people actually settle in Between? How do they cope with living in Between? Don’t they worry that they should be further up the road . . . or further back down the other way? Are they trying to avoid rocks and other assorted hard places?

Perhaps I should move there. I live in a constant state of Between. Between things I’m fleeing and things I’m running toward. Will I ever get THERE, wherever THERE is? Even if I do, I suspect I’ll still feel in Between, because there is always something further away that I want. Am I simply a wanderer, in a good way, who thrives on the next personal project, the next goal? Or am I actually lost in a place called Between? Incapable of finding fulfillment where I am? Perhaps there’s more to appreciate on Ho Hum Hollow Rd. in Between than I realized.

Last night I slept like the dead. And was wide awake by 5:05 am and on my way. Part of me secretly still expects me to give up on this particular journey. Its always a relief, and a bit of a surprise, especially after a stumble or a step back, to thwart that expectation.