I am antagonized. Exhausted in my marrow. Hungry for something straight and flavorless. Hungry for austerity, discipline, and isolation. I want to be an anchoress in the deepest woods. I want to go a wandering. I want to turn on music and sway and sleep until I come to terms again. I want to stretch old muscles. Set things to rights.
This is not to be my fate – at least not in the short term. We are on the precipice of a giant collection of shared experience. Shuttling in the same car, meeting family up at the farm, opening up about everything. Or not. There’s just going to be a lot of people there, many of who were in the day to day life of my grandmother but never met us. Her niece, my great-aunt, has spent months up there on the farm I love but find stifling, a source of the very isolation and austerity I claim I want, will be there. We have only ever met on Facebook. There’s a lot of pent-up emotion even though, for now, it’s controlled. It’s okay. I am not going to let everything that is stomping through my brain break through my temples, use the back of my eyeballs for punching bags. Enough worry and blood pressure spiking is enough.
To get here, to this momentary calm, where I have Once I Was An Eagle doing what it can for my nerves, I worked my fingers to the bone and let the exhaustion rub down those bones until they chalked along the pavement. The ribbons were ordered and are ready to be picked up even though nobody called me to confirm. I figured out how to do this complicated bankery business I’ve been expected to do but have not had time, but I got it sorted out in an hour today and felt excessively proud. Not only because of this, but because my to do list actually got shorter for once in my life. I found every yes within me and put it on the table. I took care of just about every short term concern. If only I could spend that much of myself every day, perhaps I could have some long-term organization that would ease my mind.. (That is making me tense up just to put down on “paper.” I give enough. I bleed enough.) I got this shit dealt with and this has meant that my shit – packing and dawdling, picking out music for the road, eating dinner, feeling a bit satisfied that I know what is going on and what clothes I actually packed – is not coming together whatsoever.
There’s still time, I guess. I should sleep, but that’s damn unlikely. I never can calm down enough before one of these roadtrips to nod off and let any part of me relax, plus now we have the dog to contend with for a few miles, so there’s an added anxiety this empath has to block out if she wants to have any peace at all.
Tonight, in the darkness, we will raise the stars. This morning, on the edge of light, we will draw forth all that might be.