Have you ever noticed that feeling that being on a boat the whole day (or days) leaves you with? That feeling of motion...like the sway, the rise and fall of the movement of water? The feeling of holding yourself to ground-in during movement? Recently, I felt it on the boat and I felt it hours later when I was back home. I felt the internal movement when I would stop, when I sat on the bed and when I stood in the shower. The contained space of the shower, the shape of the bath tub, the water falling on me...I especially felt it there. When I stopped I felt it. Inside of me I could still feel the sway, the rise and fall of the lake. Its faint, but present and you can miss it if you don't pay attention. The memory of motion.
Do you remember that gypsy thing I keep writing about? That part of myself that keeps wanting to move, to go, to leave..the part that would make me work from 3 differently places in one day? The part that hasn't allowed me to enter a place or person with a sense of "Stay"...you know, as not feeling committed to a place of employment, as in not seeing myself living in this "one" town/city/state/country, the thing that keeps me from staying in "relationship" with a "him" (you know, like a boyfriend). That thing, remember? And just for the record, my internal gypsy is adored by me. I love her for not letting me stay stuck, for not letting me sink further in further into the depths of the valley of the shadow of death...I love her for keeping me moving, going, leaving because she has been walking (and sometimes crawling) me out of that valley.
When I was in Mexico I jumped off this one boat I was on..and this boat was traveling through this one really ugly lake, like those lakes where the water is so unstable that it is difficult to rise on ski's or boards to ride waves. And now I'm off that lake and standing still. And I feel it, just like I did after the weekend at the lake, I feel the memory of that motion.
I feel the memory of it and sometimes it scares me. Sometimes it makes me want to pretend that my past didn't actually hurt me as much as it did, it makes me scared to use Joe's name, it makes me scared to say "my late husband", it makes me scared to talk about it to new people...and once upon a time I talked about it all the time. Sometimes the memory of motion and my fear of it makes me say things like "I'm completely untied from my story with Joe"...as if that could ever be a Truth. As if it was possible to undo from the tapestry of my life the fabric of his life. The memory of that motion makes me scared...the memory of motion makes me scared of my past.
And yet I am aware of the power of the ground I am now standing on. I know I'm no longer on the boat, but experiencing a memory. I know that I'm afraid of my past, but I'd rather be afraid of my past than scared of my present. I'm not scared of my present anymore, somehow I managed to fall in love with it. Turns out its true what they say, its a Gift.
And if I can learn to look to my past without the fearing it, if I can continue living my amazing present, I might be closer than ever to committing to the future of Contracts, Cities, and maybe even his Cama.