Going with the Flow

September 7, 2008

Going with the Flow

Wow.  I’m back from a long sabbatical.  I’m sure you are all thinking that I ran off with Starbucks Stud (from my last post) and am living happily ever after.  Not quite.  I am living…and happily….hopefully ever after.  The last two months have been a whirlwind.  I turned 30, finished my law clerk position, packed up my life (into 56 boxes), exchanged often difficult goodbyes with family and friends, and set off on my trip out west with my cousin JP.  We are currently driving – excuse me, he his driving (as he has been the entire time, god love him) – through Texas.  I’m typing on my laptop, looking out the window at those huge three-prong windmills.  I’m certain this is a promising development – using wind as a resource – but they kind of scare me. They look like cold pricklies.  Not warm fuzzies.  Maybe we can paint them sunflower yellow or something.  Just to cheer them up a bit.

Anyhow, I think I’ve not been writing because what I’ve been feeling lately can’t really be put into words.  I’ve tried to think of how this feels – moving across the country alone at 30 to start a new job and a new life – and all I can come up with is a lava lamp.  Lame, I know.  But I feel like this blob, hot pink as it were, kind of floating through a larger blob… changing shape, changing directions, running into things.  The outline of myself has become less clear, but I’m ok with it.  I’m simply trying to observe each moment as I flow through this move.

I’ve been thinking a lot about an analogy my mom emailed to me to help me deal with this major life change, particularly to cope with saying goodbye to everyone I love.  She told me to think of life like a river; everyone in the world is in this river together.  Sometimes, you float along with the same people for a while and it’s wonderful.  But then, for whatever reason, currents change, or there’s a fork up ahead, or you get hung up on a rock, and all of a sudden you find yourself surrounded by different people.  All your previous river mates are still in the river, but no longer next to you.  If you try to fight the current, by swimming backwards or by trying to catch up with someone a mile ahead, you’re simply going to wear yourself out.  And, worse, you’re going to miss out on the people and the view around you at that time.

The key is that you have to trust the river because it allows everyone to live his or her own life gracefully.  You can’t control where others stop for a break or whether they take a riskier path over some rocks, or a less risky path in the slow lane.  All you can do is accept everyone where there are and enjoy the scene around you.  The river changes constantly, and maybe those who were around you five miles ago, will meet up with you five miles down the river.  Maybe not.

This thinking has helped me so much, particularly over the last several days as I’ve been on the road.  I’ve found myself wanting to look back — which is fine to wave “Hello” or “I miss you” — but once I realize I’m not enjoying the scene around me, then I have to regroup.  And sometimes, I catch myself looking ahead — already in LA when I’m really at the Sooners game in Oklahoma — and I have to remind myself to be where I am.  Even if the river is muddy, or rough, or too slow, or too fast, it’s where I am.  And that’s exactly where I should be.

Speaking of which, we just floated into New Mexico.  I’m gonna go soak it up.

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