I love Sunday walks in the park with Noel. Noel is my soon to be 8 year old pup- a sheltie mix of sorts we happily rescued from a shelter on the Eastern Shore those many Christmases ago. And I suppose I just love walks in the park in early Autumn, as colors begin changing: the mix of red, orange, yellow, and greens taking over a tree infused landscape. I stop when Noel stops- pausing to take in the smells of grass, trees, and the crispness of Fall. I think there's a sort of vitality in the air of Autumn. We are awakened and brought into a deeper, more heightened sense of experience. The senses illuminate in a way that can only happen in these months of October and November, with a sweet dog by your side, reminding you to slow down and take moments to pause every now and then. And I get to thinking about Elizabeth Bennet- the pensive and stubborn character Austen so expertly created... a lover of walking, much like myself. And I begin wondering if perhaps Austen imagined Bennet's experience of walking to be something like this- a meditation of sorts, taking in the colors, smells, and sounds of this outward place, dreaming of chance encounters while allowing a moment for reflection and self introspection. One can find a sense of peace while walking, and ideally when walking in a physically beautiful place.
So I got to thinking about walking in a city like New York- something which I at one time found to be a different kind of meditation but now deem a sport of sorts. Competitive, fast paced, each individual so tightly wound up in his or own world of thought and focus, merely aiming to get from point A to point B seemingly as quickly as possible. One does not walk in a city like that for the sense of calm or inner peace it brings. One does not see this practice as a means of restoration but rather a means of transportation. It's like a million atoms in space attempting not to collide- dodging one another and hot dog carts and yellow cabs, trying not to be distracted by bright city lights, angered Yankees fans, or posh downtown hipsters donning far too few accessories. I don't think Noel would enjoy those kinds of walks, and more and more I'm thinking I wouldn't either. Because who really wants to live in world overflowing with zombies donning headphones apparently cut off from that outward experience? I think I'd rather an openness to that space, allowing all that a park or a path or landscape can wash over me as I move through it.
So there's that.
I'm no longer one of those Starbucks dwelling people... but more so my need for employment and some fund saving as transformed me into a Trader Joe's dweller. And not just for the free samples. I now get to spend mornings, afternoons, and some very late evenings unloading trucks,stocking shelves, bagging groceries and making attempts to interact with those other specialty food loving people. I work at Trader Joe's. I live at home with my parents. In a good number of ways, I'm lost. And each day is a struggle to allow myself to be okay with all of that. To be okay with where I am, what I'm doing, and what I have. Because really, I'm not lost. I'm just trying to figure out who I am and what I want without the regulations or labels of some larger institution or structure deciding for me.
And it's kind of amazing... finding yourself in the vast openness of possibility existing in the universe. But it's simultaneously terrifying- thinking that you have to choose a path, a passion, an occupation. What if you're just too overwhelmed by option? By interest? What if you're just in a transition... because transitions DO exist. And as of this moment, I am in one. The ultimate one. And I have to believe that this is going to lead to another moment... or maybe just another transition. Maybe there are no certain things or final destinations in life. Maybe it's all moving through one transition after the other- like riding the waves of an infinite sea... loving the thrilling rush of the crash, all the while terrified of drowning. I guess I'm just having a hard time. I'm having a hard time figuring out how to be living life... when the reality is, I can do or be anything. Really. So why a sense of fear or guilt or judgment? Why not just rid yourself of all of that and allow life to be what it is, where it is, in this very moment... in this transition?
Easier said than done I guess, right?
Well for now, there is some sort of satisfaction that comes from making someone smile, from seeing the world through the eyes of an affectionate, loving, animal, and so perfectly stacking jars of salsa and beans and tomato paste. There is a sense of peace one feels after reading a good book purely for pleasure, of having the time to write and write and write, and taking endless moments to pause and think, to meditate. And all I can hope is that I'll figure this thing out. This thing being life. So perhaps that will take a life time. Perhaps that's kind of the point. We spend our lives trying to figure this thing out... so we make connections with other people and places, we develop skills and interests and passions, we feel and think and dream, and we hope that at the end of the day we're left with something or someone to hold onto. We're all just trying to figure this thing out. I'm not sure that any of us really know what we're doing. And maybe there should be some sort of comfort in that.
On a lighter note, the following items are assisting me in welcoming my favorite season of Autumn... check them out:
Poetry of Richard Siken: Crush
the musical stylings of Ingrid Michaelson, Ryan Adams (from Easy Tiger), Courtney Jones and Ben Folds
new books including: The Kids are All Right and The Stranger (Camus)
Baking and eating pumpkin bread
abundant walks in the park
actually dressing up for Halloween this year and enjoying it
Until next time,
L
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