Departure!
Moving about the world as a singleton, I can feel that all my edges are exposed. There is no protected flank, no safe harbor in the near distance between me and a companion. It’s not just experiencing everything alone, it’s that there is a keenness, an unbuffered astringency to it. It’s also that there is no respite. I love to drive, but I cherish that moment when I can hand the wheel over to the other, sink back into the passenger seat and close my eyes in grateful surrender. This is no longer an option. I am driving all the time. Facing the world. Eyes open.
There are benefits — I see more, I am more available for those brief encounters with strangers that I love, each one a little lesson in commonality.
It has been interesting to feel how much being in a relationship sheilds me from the core realities of life. That “meaning” is local and short term, that I am not important, that there is no “point.” These are not new realizations, but they fade comfortably into the background amidst the business of shared domestic life and activities. Juxtaposed against those truths is the effort to create a life that feels fulfilling and worthwhile. This is not comfortable. But I am working to stay with the discomfort, to not run for shelter. I am convinced that somewhere in these polarities is a wellspring of generativity. That the very “meaninglessness” of everything is the actual source of . . . meaning? freedom? creation?
I am finally all packed — including the 10 essentials for survival: fire, shelter, water, food, warm clothes, navigation, first aid, sun protection, knife, headlamp as well as an extra battery for charging devices. It seems that day hikers are famous for getting into trouble by not having these basics
The last thing I had to fit into my bag was what Mirabel and Omar always most want me to bring them from home: Flaming Hot Cheetos!
The prairie is just starting with its first round of flowers — Sweet William and Flax, Columbine and and Lupine. The tomatoes are flourishing, I am already eating arugula, lettuce and kale from the garden. With all the rain this week, things are growing at an astonishing rate. So I bid goodbye to the rousing 5am morning chorus, the overabundance of baby bunnies, the routines that I have curated. Ready to go, ready to do and see, ready to grow.
Mirabel and I used to go through the car wash together for entertainment. The absurd rainbow of flashing lights, the squirting of foamy fluids, the big soft octopus cloths being dragged across the car were endlessly entertaining to us. When she first left home so many years ago, whenever I missed her unbearably, I would go through the car wash. My car had never been so clean. I just went there so I can leave my car in good shape, and remembered all this, and now I am in a fever to get to Amsterdam to spend some time with my favorite person on the planet.
