18/06/2011 § Leave a comment
Moments of experiential growth, trapped in one’s very subjective memory.
“Dude, you have many stories from your adventure.”
And I wonder.
If a person stumbles upon something grand, and no one is around to witness it, does it really happen?
I remember friends and family telling me of their stories, like chasing perpetual cityscapes by plane, like motorcycle rides through mountains, like bicycle tours through cobblestone streets, like dancing through downtown squares with bottles of beer. Moments shared with who(m)?
I sat on a fold-out chair at STB’s and watched as three of some of my favourites conversed about The Ramones and their songs, knowing that one day some will do the same for them.
“Please don’t apologize. This is perfect.”
It’s real to me.
The low tide of one’s reflections of a lone trip and the wonderment of where it has lead. Stepping back into real life, when not much has changed and breathing a sigh of relief to catch one’s grasp of so much change from before.
Yes, the moon still shines brightly, but it is no longer upside down.
When you look at the rings of a tree, you recognize a pattern. For the first few years, you can see the rapid growth of a creature just wanting to be as big as possible as soon as possible. And then we trim the leaves in order for other parts to flourish. It may be shorter, but it is fuller.
This process is recommended for flowers, too.
This time, I do remember. A little too well. Yes. My mood has changed because I remember the difference between leaving last and recent.
“Don’t gooooo…” they say.
And like deep wells that had run dry for a quarter-century, my vision is blurred.
I left a few notes for various friends, mostly short phrases of how much I thought of them, and mostly saluting them with my infamous three sayings that they all seemed to notice:
Absolutely. Exactly. Baile, baile… (dance, dance…)
Although painfully uncomfortable at times, squared up into a ball on a couch that many have sat upon and few have laid to sleep on, the dreaded coffee-ing hour sneaking upon me, but knowing that YouTube Yoga will get our spirits up, up, up, and not wishing for, but never discontented to be doing what was done, I still reflect on the not-so-calm voyage of never-a-possibly-stagnant moments.
And I no longer wander, yet will always wonder if the comedown will bring me back up again.
A romanticization of something that didn’t really work and what it could have been if I tried a little harder.
Am I happy? Absolutely.
Am I where I need to be? Exactly.