It is only a mater of hours until we embark on this trip. It was not a surprise trip, or something we decided out of the blue, it was decided months ago, heck almost 6 months ago. But I planed nothing this trip, I am just now packing, but not in a regular method, more in a way that helps me clean up the giant pile of clean cloths, the wrinkly shirt creator I call it.
No matter what it is pull out of the pile to put on in the morning, it is covered in those little wrinkles, you know, the ones right below the waves on a sandy beach. That’s nothing though, I have made no plans, or goals, or expectations for this trip. I am not getting a car, I don’t even have a list of things to see, nor have I even looked at a map. Apparently I forgot to tell a number of people I was going, luckily I remembered to take the vacation time off. I am looking at this trip much like I am my life now, a bit lost, no direction, and oddly enough no worries. I am along for the ride, good bad, or exciting. Sure I have been obsessed with the State theater project as of late, I would even say I made it my focus in my life right now, at least for the past few weeks, but really it has no ownership to me. At any time I could lose my vestedness in the project, it really is anthers not mine. I have not even been officially offered the job. Really for the past 4 months, life has been a un relenting number of days, each gotten though, mostly sober. Not looking to the future, trying to not think of the past. Not like me at all. Maybe it’s just survival Instinct’s kicking in? Telling others I am on auto pilot from a break up just sounds silly, but it was 7 years, and it was not a minor thing. My life had changed and developed around an existence, and then that changed, almost overnight, and unexpectedly. The whole “world view” as they call it gets flip flopped around, mixed up, confused. Saying things don’t make sense misses the core issue, they just do not have the same meaning anymore. Protective constructive understandings of my existence failed and had to be re-constructed. Last labor day, was the 7 year anniversary of my mothers passing. I don’t keep track of days like that, and I did not know the day, but I did, some part of me did. I had hid behind someone else and leaned on them for 7 years, and the words of comport they gave me, and that helped me though, now fall flat, meaning less, and useless to combat the emotion of the past. So I re-do what has been done, I re-view what was been viewed, and relive in some ways what has been lived. All while trying to stay in the safety of the now, not dare thinking about the uncertainly of the future that could be or the future that never will be, or dwelling on the past that might hurt. Because in this very second, the one I am in right now, typing this out, it is all good, and I am packing, for something, and cleaning up that mountain of cloths, and tomorrow will be full of more moments, of posable fun. Life roles on, and adventure awaits.