All Roads Lead to The Edge

Flashback to Spring, 1992. I’m driving a white, 1982 Volkswagon Rabbit. The back seats are loaded with boxes and bags containing pieces/remants of my life. Direction? North. 2 miles from the southern border of R.I. this song is playing. Seared forever into my body, my soul, my heart – these words, this voice, a feeling transcending the intellectual.

As if having walked forever an arid wasteland desert, my body tasted a thing intangible. Lips whetted by something intangible, my body drank of  an emotional, acknowledgement the thing that had no words. I was returning from a  journey, I was returning home. I knew the very moment my car crossed the state line I had made the right decision. Not to move. A little over a year later, the man who blessed my decision to try something new, build a new life somewhere else, was dead. Yes. I’d made the right decision. I did not waste the last year of my father’s life.

Flashback to yesterday, Friday, July 3, 2015. I’m driving a dark blue, 2001 Honda Accord. The back seats hold my laptop, some clothing, and an overnight bag. Direction? North. 2 miles from the southern border of R.I., this song is playing. Hit to the body. 23 years later.

Ten Things of Thankful BlogHop.

I woke up today.

After driving for almost 8.5 hours yesterday, one of the many venturing the highways for the long, holiday weekend I arrived safely at my destination.

Being  the passenger in a Mini-Cooper, convertable top down, known to travel at 140 mph (not really but a cute story), on my way to the beach.

Walking the beach with my sister-in-law at dusk, finding a lifeguard tower, climbing up and waiting for the moon to ascend from the ocean. Red ball took it’s time. Magnificent.

The greeting I received from my brother and his wife’s dog. I got out of the car and dashing down the stairs and rushing towards me was a beautiful ball of mostly black fur. The excitement of canine greetings after time away is, as they say, priceless.

That my bank accounts were not drained as a result of my check cards being compromised. Was I being rogerian Thursday night thinking  I was the only one this happened to? LOL No. My bank restricted a ton of cards as a result of “unusual activity”.

Part 2 of last entry – that my bank was open yesterday. Otherwise, I would not be sitting here. Here? The back porch of above referenced brother and wife’s house. Birds chirping, dog barking, plane in the distance, cloud cover, not hot, peaceful. I really can suspend time.

That I didn’t break my shoulder yesterday morning. But damn if it doesn’t hurt today. (reminder: do something about the “old person” thing)

Music

That I’m a clark? I’ve put a question mark because at first, I thought, well, I can be thankful I’m a clark because I can “handle” the flood of thoughts and emotion that beset me last night driving by my old apartment and the beach I lived across from for so long. Then, it hit me. I was thankful for the abilities I possess as a clark to control my emotions, to deflect and sublimate (for the time being) the unpleasant, uncomfortable, and enjoy the pleasant, present and positive things of the moment.  

Stop today, for a moment. Look. Listen. Experience. Your self in the world.