Friday, January 16, 2009

Time is not given and time is not taken... They build buildings.

"I'm sorry.
I'm okay.

I wish you could meet the person I imagine I am-- in the center. Instead you meet this bruised outer chaos. Ah, yes, she's extraordinary. I try so hard to bring her out now, but I suppose she got shy and hid away. In due time she will return. By then it'll probably be too late.

Truth is, I do believe in time. I just try to mutiny it because I despise the control it has and the pain it's caused."

If I was going to stick a post-it note on a door right now, that's what it would read.
I had a particularly rough night and became ridiculous. i was tired and now I am exhausted. It's so strange how difficult it is to be the person we envision ourselves to be. Some people think they are one person and are perceived a whole 'nother way and never realize it. I'm not sure how I am perceived here, but I think it's not how I want to be.

I talked to Aaron tonight about what it is that I am really missing... Sure, I miss people. I miss places and I miss events. But what I really miss is this one particular feeling. Well, there are plenty of feelings I miss, but this one I imagine being able to find more easily if I were in Holland or in Amherst. It's the feeling that overcomes me when sitting on my front porch at Timmer watching the people pass by. It's the feeling I get from playing in the rain with close friends/others... or perhaps even from laying in freshly cut grass in unexpected places. It's the feeling I get from laying on church library carpet. Like in The Giver I can close my eyes and recall bits of it... but not enough. I don't know where to find it, but when I do- I might just stay.

I always have to leave.
It's a new form of heart break.

It's the feeling of being in love with the world.
It's the essence of being one with the Earth.

It's being... just being.

1 comment:

heather said...

Sara-- I'm sorry, and I've been there. The falseness, the not-quite-right-ness. I've been there.

But I've also been THERE. So here's where I found some solace before I found friends:

1) National Gallery. When you walk in the main door, go to the first gallery on the right. It's the impressionists. There's something coming-homey about seeing Van Gogh's sunflowers in person.

2) Also in Trafalgar Square, St. Martin-in-the-Fields church. They do free lunch-time concerts. Doors open at 12:30, concerts start at 1:00 PM. It's mostly classical music by professional soloists or small ensembles, but it's always beautiful and soul-healing. They have a place for donations at the end, and I usually put in a pound.

3) Hyde Park or the Thames path for a morning run. Runners, as you know, are friendly folk, so if you can get up early enough and brave the cold, you'll generally get at least a smile and nod. (I found the Thames path to be where the more serious runners go-- you'll find lots of people training for the London Marathon in April there.)

4) Millenium Bridge, Tate Modern side. It's fun to walk across the bridge, but even more fun to hang out with the buskers singing Wonderwall before heading in to whatever installation they have in the huge entry way of the Tate. (I'll add that the Tate Britain has a few of my very favorite pieces ever, but it's a bit of a hike to get there)

5) Borough Market. FREE FOOD. Need I say more? It's a huge market under some railroad tracks where you can buy the freshest, greenest, organic food in the city. I also discovered the best brownie I've ever eaten there. Pretty much every stall has free samples. And everyone wants to talk to you (to sell you things, but still, some days, you do what you can to have a conversation). Here's a map:

Good luck, Sara! I'm cheering for you. One day, you'll get on and off the tube and end up where you wanted to go without ever looking at a map or asking directions or feeling confused and you'll listen to the story your British friend is telling you and you'll realize you have arrived. And then you'll never want to leave.