Without humor, life would be unbearable. Therefore, I feel that the more laughing that can be done, the further along one can explore before becoming lost and stuck. And the best kind of laughter comes by looking in the mirror.
For instance, after much preparation and heart-wrenching separation, I brought myself to my Perfect Paradise Playground. Of pain. The pain wasn't intended of course, (by me anyway). I spend idle moments wondering at the reality that I voluntarily left paradise after achieving what I hoped to achieve, which was an invitation to stay on indefinitely. Funny, no?
This new city and I, we regard each other indifferently.
Here's another woman foreigner.
Here's another city by the sea.
She is like a nondescript older car given to me by a mechanic uncle that I may drive until I get where I am wanting to go.
I am just another short-term owner in a long line of short-term owners driving her as long as she makes herself of use.
Sometimes calm just comes, and there is no storm on either side.
In this relative calm, the past comes to rest in my lap, cozy and dreamy. So, to turn this past into something more like to a comforting scarf rather than a lumpy suitcase, I must weave the bits, I must link them together with each other so that they fit into the now. Beautifully.
Softer now, and warmer.
All these things we all have. Our items of sentiment and beauty and practical use. Somewhat consciously, I have left them, and climbed atop a strange faraway hill. What of those thing nourished? What of those things kept me heavy? What of those things do I need? What of those things enhance? And how could I ever know for sure unless I backed away, loosened my grip?
In the absence of the familiar, much comes rushing in, some hovering, some blinking here and gone, and some resting in my lap. It isn't time yet to pick anything up. Observance is enough.
Although, at this rate, I will need another 200 years to get it right.
Thank God for laughter :)
