Japanse New-Girl Monkey Network
Moment of Clarity
Once again, I've followed the same old pattern. I hadn't realized what's really real until it's staring me in the face, forehead to forehead, unavoidable. The past couple of weeks have been blurry housebound packing sessions. I've felt like some kind of bizarre underage shut-in. Going down the road for a coffee was a miraculous event.
So it was only until today, as I was driving home after the second load of boxes was dropped off at Goodwill. All that stuff I'd used and breathed on and shared molecules with, gone, given away, for someone else to utilize or neglect or break or treasure. That had to mean I was really going. I was going to condense everything I owned into a few boxes, some to go on a plane with me, some of which would get mailed, and some of which would live in my parents' shed indefinitely. I'd be less defined by material things. I'd already started to feel lighter, more ethereal. The Wallflowers came on the radio (I need a garden/ Where nothing's forbidden/ I need an apple/ No one's been eating/ I want to start again/ Back at the beginning/ I had a vision/ That this feeling maybe has an ending) and I started to cry, it was all welling up, emotions I'd been to busy or hazy to ponder until then. Feelings were bubbling up, not really negative, just raw and intense.
It wouldn't feel completely real until three weeks after I'd been in Sydney, this was just the beginning of the process. I just kept driving home, to my almost bare apartment and the sleeping bag on the floor, and the emotions slipped away as quickly as they came.
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