Finding a place to call home

Reading some old stuff.... Here is something I wrote at the beginning of the year... Glad to see I'm making some progress...
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It's a pretty big question, and I am surprised I haven't ever given it that much explicit thought.

As a side note, I am going to start writing more. I forget a lot, miss big things, don't reflect enough. I want to know what I was thinking at a given point in time, and it forces me to be honest with myself in a way that I might not be otherwise.

I've been a little overly interested in communicating as of late. After all of this fighting I realized I do a very poor job of synthesizing things. I also saw how quickly I got my ass into gear and started pursuing my goals once I actually wrote them down. I have a newfound clarity and sense of purpose that I haven't had in a while.

I also realize there might be some (potentially) big things I haven't discussed and I am looking forward to answering them for myself.
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Contrasting my two homes…

When I left Bridgewater I was also ready to leave the northeast, but not because I hated it - I liked a lot of things about it. The people definitely were more cultured, more informed, and generally more intelligent. They are more tolerant of new ideas and people. It is something that is highly valued in the society. People are also very ambitious and self reliant. Families are important, but beyond that, there is little sense of community. It probably has a lot to do with the population density of the region and wave after wave of new immigrants. Whatever the reason, I did not like how disconnected I felt from everyone else. I appreciated their existence, but I didn’t feel as though I was a part of it.

Comparatively, the south is much more rural and much more racially/culturally homogenous. People are much more comfortable talking with each other – they are generally friendlier. I don’t think people in the northeast are mean, they are actually very helpful. They just always seem to be inconvenienced by strangers. They are too caught up in their own existence. It might have something to do with the fact that they know they are sacrificing their time for someone they have a near zero chance of seeing again (and even if they do, they know they won’t remember them). In the south, people seem eager to do things for others. They welcome the opportunity to help a stranger or even offer an opinion (think of the cashier who comments on what you are buying and smiles at you versus the one who just holds her head down and looks at the register only giving you a pensive stare). They don’t triple book plans for the weekend, they don’t just ditch you, and they feel like they owe you something if they did something to hurt you. Most would actively seek to make amends.

As far as climate goes, both have negatives. The South is hot as hell in the summer and the northeast’s winters last way too long. The change of seasons is something I will certainly miss. All in all, I think I would still choose the south given so much of the year is useless in the Northeast. It is way too many consecutive days of being couped up. I am sick of winter by Christmas and I am miserable by March. A quarter of the year is too much time to waste. Living near the ocean helps to moderate this a lot. I don’t think I could handle being much farther inland if I went back.

What does this mean?

Well. I don’t think I could ever live in Salley again, at least not for a long time and not without some huge changes in the way people communicate (which is possible). Currently I don’t mind sitting at home all day chatting online, getting on a webcam or talking on the phone. I just need contact with interesting people. As more of our society shifts online and we become better and helping people meet each other I think a lot of the isolation that can come from living in a small town will be alleviated. Then the question of where to live might not be as big of a deal.

I also don’t think I could ever live in the heart of a major skyscraper city like Chicago, New York or Boston (though the Cambridge side was fine with all of it’s trees, grass, and relatively low skyline). I need personal space. I like having room to walk around in a house, work in my yard, sit on my front porch or walk down the sidewalk in my neighborhood alone (without bumping into strangers) and reflect or just listen to some new music. I also like having the option of meeting with others doing interesting things. In Columbia, I can pick up a copy of the local paper, the Free Times, and find something to do almost any night of the week. I might not have a wide selection of things to choose from, but that is not a concern right now. I just need novelty – something to keep my mind active. Right now I have several outlets where I can connect with small spheres of people who are interested in similar things – the Unitarian Universalist church, the gym, the pottery studio. I found these same places to be much less sociable in the north. Columbia also has a lively bar scene where I can go be mindless and dance and drink. In short, I can be alone in peace and quiet, find new acquaintances, or go hang out with friends anytime I want. Wherever I life, I want to be able to do all of these. Really rural areas and really urban areas don’t offer these options.

Another aspect about living in the south I like is the cost. I certainly like the fact that I can afford to do more things (ie have a higher quality of life), but that’s not necessarily it. I think it has more to do with financial stress. Losing everything is a very real fear in CT/NY. If you don’t work, you will not survive. In the south, I feel as though I can work part time and support myself. Even if I don’t have a job I can still tell myself I’d move in with mom and dad and farm my own food or just get a tent and sleep in the woods. It’s stupid, but it helps to put my mind at ease. I really enjoy working and being industrious, but I hate feeling compelled to do so. I want to work because I want to, not because I need to survive. I really hate worrying about my financial security and it really isn’t an issue in Columbia.

For now, Columbia is about right (it’s a little light on culture). I want to stay here until I am bored with it and feel as though I have taken from it all I can. It’s also a great place to decompress and heal (need a separate entry on this) after somewhat failing at BW. I need to get my confidence back. I also need to do some stuff I have wanted to do for a long time before I go back to work (need a separate entry on this).

What next?

In the next year or two I will most likely go back into finance and if I do, it will probably be in the northeast. I need to put more thought into selecting where I will live, not just focus on my commute. Generally speaking one thing that is nice about midsize cities is that they have real neighborhoods around the city center. I like that setup. I’d like to find something like that near a big city. Basically live in a place like Columbia, where I can have the type of life I want but have the additional benefit of being able to go into a cultural metropolis like NYC anytime I want.

If I go back I think I would live in a place like Greenwich or Stamford. It would allow me to go into NYC more. I didn’t go enough when I lived in SoNo, I stayed in my room too much. It was too much of a trek. I would also like to have a crashpad to take away the stress of going in so regularly and having to worry about accommodations (or at least just pick a hostel, get to know the people that work there, and try to make it feel like a home). I will also make it a point to make a wide network of friends outside of work. Seek out a church, a gym and other social outlets. I didn’t do this in CT. When I left BW, my abstract goal for the year was to “be a part of a community.” I think it was because I had been so detached from one while I was there. I definitely need to work on that next time I go back.

I'll go where the river takes me

Back to doing what I do best
planning my next big endeavor
and settling into my new life
right now it's:
piddling around on the farm
getting to know my family
(and letting them know me)
and just trying to shed the nonsense
sometimes it's hard to know what's genuine
and what's acting
so much impromptu training
TV, music, dumb books
but it's easy when I feel myself talking
and realize the words aren't my own
and you feel like you have to apologize
I don't mind letting my own words stick
I sleep easy, even if they bite
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floating down a river
things felt right
It's what I like to do
set a course of motion
and just appreciate it
no bitching about bug bites
no complaining about where I sleep
or the cell phone signal
when I'm hot
jump in the river, find some shade
when I'm hungry
cast a line
when I'm tired
find a sandy bank
If I want to go home
know it will take me there
If i want it faster
paddle harder
I have what I need
I have what I want
if I accept my circumstances

a butterfly lands on my finger
found some paw paws to snack on
a redneck in a john boat
throws me some bottled water

I'll go where this river takes me
no need fighting the current
save your worries for yourself>
Float on - it's easy
but when it's time to get out,
it's time for something else
---
always changing
pop in
pop out
always the same

Juxtaposition

You can say you're sorry
but that doesn't mean anything
If the person hearing, doesn't believe it
or doesn't want to listen
I waited patiently for 2 months
for the chance to say it
and after an hour
It was clear it didn't matter:
Indifference...
ironically
there's an anger when I mention it
squirting lighter fluid on a fire
it flares right in my face
singes my eyebrows
I am not interested in the details of life
I am interested in why people choose to live
why they cry
why they smile
why their stomachs twist in knots
we don't talk about that anymore
those were conversations left
for when her head rested on my shoulder
when she mumbled her secrets in a half sleepy daze
when I offered peace
a chapter closes
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It's a been a few weeks
and a few months before that
I called a few times recently though
just to catch up
no answer
no bother
She didn't have her phone
She was in the wilderness
doing what I'll be doing
canoeing down a lonely river
getting away from it all...
getting close to what matters
I was happy to see her name in the caller ID
I was heading home
but my cell phone doesn't have reception there
I just pull over on the side of the road
walk through the wet grass and sit down
We talked for 5 hours
as the moon slid beneath the pines
I haven't done that in years
She said the same thing
last time was when we were both freshman
She's got a new boyfriend
but nothing has really changed
we are good friends
We run together
through each others thoughts
as fast we I want
I meander
It's the difference in interstates
and old country roads
It's just natural
It's just comfortable
The way things are supposed to be
I don't have to caveat or explain
I breathe easy
These curves make us smile
That's all I needed

My child will be born with a silver spoon....

Quality. Attention to Detail. Craftsmanship - These are the things that I struggled with the most at my last job, but they are also the things I have learned to love over the last year or two. I realize this as I lay in a giant pile of silver plates, bowls, candlesticks, platters and other antiques that my grandmother passed down to my mother.

I've always appreciated a thoughtful script and witty banter. It was easy to appreciate good cinematography or a well tailored shirt. In retrospect, I think my childhood fascination with coin collecting was in large part do to the incredible engravings behind each piece of currency. They are miniature works of art. But it wasn't until I went to the the Metropolitan Museum of art that I started looking for and appreciating the beauty in everyday things. (That place is incredible. I could spend an entire month in there and not get bored.) What it taught me was that art isn't simply limited to paintings, sculpture or photography. Craftsmen are in all trades - furniture, cookware, musical instruments, clothing even baseball cards. In fact, the weaponry section was one of my favorite sections in the entire museum.

Anyway, I because in the process of binging on thrift stores in Hilton Head and Charleston I realized I enjoy admiring well crafted items (and was sick of our disposable culture). The stores were filled with unwanted gifts and chipped (though perfectly good) items of fairly wealthy people along the coast. I have always liked thrift stores simply because you never know what you will find, but there is a big difference in the things middle class people give away and the things wealthy people donate to charity. I bought all sorts of things: blown glass decanters, a copper fondue set from Holland, crystal glassware, pottery even silver cutlery.

They are objects that demand to be looked at. They have weight, they sparkle, they shine. They don't allow you to rush through a meal or a cup of coffee without admiring what you are doing. I like how these items can turn everyday activities into sacred rituals. They take me out of my head and force me to acknowledge what I am doing, they make me smile, they teach me to appreciate life.

I look forward to the next time I share a meal with friends in my home.

Hobbies

Technology, photography, and thrift

Final thoughts

Fashion at 12...

Amazing how little has changed since 1997...

It's already been said...

Proverbs 17:9
Love prospers when a fault is forgiven, but dwelling on it separates
close friends.

Proverbs 30:18-19
There are three things that amaze me—
no, four things that I don't understand:
how an eagle glides through the sky,
how a snake slithers on a rock,
how a ship navigates the ocean,
how a man loves a woman.

1 John 4:8
Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love

Sent from my iPhone

Mr.Neruda

Mr.Neruda
You can write (the wisest lines)
"love is brief: forgetting lasts so long"
I wonder how long it took you
to finish the 20th one
I wonder if it was the first one
and you just put it at the end
that's what I think
I have said it a thousand times

Sent from my iPhone

I'm either going schizophrenic or I'm having a religious revelation...

Everything seems to be inexplicably tied together, almost to the point of being surreal.

Poverbs 20:24
Man's goings are of the lord; how can a man then understand his own way?
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Mind mind is as fluid as flurry of ribbons behind a gymnast and working as fast as the facets of a diamond sparkling in the sunlight. I can't stop it. It scares me. My pulse rises. I break into a cold sweat. I feel the words I speak are not my own. The words of my friend sound as if they each have multiple layers of meaning. They make my mind race more. I am uneasy. I am both a viewer and participant in my own life. Time bends.

Isaiah 41

28 I look but there is no one—

no one among them to give counsel,
no one to give answer when I ask them.

29 See, they are all false!

Their deeds amount to nothing;
their images are but wind and confusion.
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Everything falls into place. Not like a story... but puzzle pieces made of magnets. It is drawn to itself. The solution is inherent in it's creation.
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1 Corinthians 2
10but God has revealed it to us by his Spirit. The Spirit searches all things, even the deep things of God.
14The man without the Spirit does not accept the things that come from the Spirit of God, for they are foolishness to him, and he cannot understand them, because they are spiritually discerned.15The spiritual man makes judgments about all things, but he himself is not subject to any man's judgment:
16"For who has known the mind of the Lord that he may instruct him?" But we have the mind of Christ.
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Staring at the sky
feeling small
that comforts me
Knowing I don't matter
God would not bother with me
This universe is too big for me to command the attention of it's creator
I am worrying over nothing
I stare at the stars
And remember the little handout the street preacher gave me
On it's cover was a young man staring at the stars
I thought it made no sense when I saw it
it said on the front
"this was your life"
It will be
It is
It was
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Psalm 31
1 In you, O LORD, I have taken refuge;
let me never be put to shame;
deliver me in your righteousness.

2 Turn your ear to me,
come quickly to my rescue;
be my rock of refuge,
a strong fortress to save me.

3 Since you are my rock and my fortress,
for the sake of your name lead and guide me.

4 Free me from the trap that is set for me,
for you are my refuge.

5 Into your hands I commit my spirit;
redeem me, O LORD, the God of truth.

6 I hate those who cling to worthless idols;
I trust in the LORD.

7 I will be glad and rejoice in your love,
for you saw my affliction
and knew the anguish of my soul.

8 You have not handed me over to the enemy
but have set my feet in a spacious place.

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I wonder if I have found my safe haven.

There is a lot to be learned here... A lot about relationships, a lot about trust

"Securely attached children are best able to explore when they have the knowledge of a secure base to return to in times of need"

"This style of attachment develops from a care-giving style which is more disengaged. The child's needs are frequently not met and the child comes to believe that communication of needs has no influence on the caregiver."

"According to some psychological researchers, this style develops from a mothering style which is engaged but on the mother's own terms. That is, sometimes the child's needs are ignored until some other activity is completed and that attention is sometimes given to the child more through the needs of the parent than from the child's initiation"

I feel like all I have needed is a vote of confidence from someone I trust - someone who knows me inside and out. I lost my secure base...

Baskets full of memories
like dried flowers
dumped in the trash
trampled on the streets
some are dusty
others have just turned to ash
they were brittle
fragile
what are memories?
I think mine are made of metal
They rust
and grow old
but don't waste away
they just sit there
Like a nuisance
Like an abandoned car
you can see what it once was
but mostly what it is
---
I need to stop doing this to myself
I'll find no happiness in junkyards
just piles of crap


My mind feels like a trampoline
where I throw ideas and they get air time
but just crash harder than they should
everything feels right
which means everything feels cheap
Like I woke up in the middle of a lake
laying on a thin sheet of ice
I can't trust it to shore
Looking for something to stand on
or someone to distract me
from the reality of the situation
or someone with some answers
but I doubt I'll find that
I'm free
but I guess I'm just meant to wander

Back to mama's cookin'
Dirt under my nails
Quiet places
Family
I feel at home
I am