5/14/07 - Running

I've been thinking all day about what it means to run. To go. To move toward somewhere other than here, now.

I'd told myself when I moved into this apartment in Boston that I was going to put my roots into this urban garden, soak it all up and become a part of it before moving onward. The half-finished mural in my room was meant to be a testament to my semi-permanent commitment to this city.

Things are so different now than when I first laid paint on that wall.

I had a steady job, and good income. I felt like I was making progress. I was learning new things every day, and even though I was scared and nervous, it was an exhilarating sort of nervousness, without the heavy burden of worrying about how I was going to pay my rent, or what would happen next, at least for a few years. In that sense, it was like Maui.

Then, it seemed like everything fell apart. I quit my job because of awkward circumstances and suddenly the one reason I'd come to Boston had suddenly disappeared from the agenda. But I felt optimistic... the severence gave me time to think, and I'd fallen in love again and the excitement of a new relationship completely consumed me. I became infatuated with DJing, and I felt like I's successfully turned every unfortunate circumstance on its head; revealing a multitude of new opportunities.

And I guess that's where I am now... only my severence has run out, and there really never is enough time in this life to get your act together, at least, I feel like that time has flown by... and here I am... still as lost as I ever was.

I want to say optimistic things, but I don't feel that way. Things are good, I have good friends and a good roommate, a wonderful boyfriend and a new skill that I am learning... but sometimes, especially when I am washing dishes at the coffee shop or making someone a sandwich, I feel a deep sense of sorrow, because I don't know where I'm going with all of this.

I mean, what am I doing with myself. Where am I going.

Sometimes that kind of uncertainty feels good. That's when I feel good about writing about it, when it's exciting like that. I feel a little guilty right now because I don't feel good about it. I just feel really sad. It sits on my shoulder and it will sit there until this- whatever it is- passes.

I'm trying to remember who I was. Amanda had called me last night and we had an impromptu brainstorming session about an underwater fashion show. She calls every once in a while to let me know what is going on in Maui, and how I should be there for it, and that she is thinking of me.

Every once in a while I yearn to go back, and to feel what I felt then. I felt a sense of relief I'd never felt before or after- a great weight was lifted, and I thought, now that I know these things, I will never have to feel worry or anxiety again. I was wrong, because I forgot. Which is as natural as remembering again.

But it got me thinking, about running.

Going back to Maui, or to some other place, some island, or some other place I'd never been to. Late last night, eyes wide open, I said out loud what I'd said on the phone to Carl last week, and what I think to myself every once in a while lately, which is, "I don't know who I am anymore."

Nick was listening, and I think it worried him. I think he thought it might have something to do with him, but it really has everything to do with me and myself, as is the nature of self-conscious ramblings.

I felt the pull I'd felt before, when I left L.A. and ran off to Texas, and when I left Texas, and ran off to Maui. The same pull I felt every time I'd had it with school, and run off to the desert. The same pull I felt when I ran off to the jungle in Mexico, when I had fears that my life had become too mundane. And every time I've run, I've had the adventure of a lifetime.

I've had adventures enough for many lifetimes over, and there will be more to come... because I can't get enough of it. It's just a matter of time, is what I'm told.

Last night I was looking at the ceiling. I'd said what I said: "I don't know who I am anymore."

Suddenly I felt this intense need to run. To just go. Then I looked to my left and saw laying next to me this man, who I love and I felt confused, and for a moment I paused to ask myself 'why'.

Why run? Where am I going? What am I running from? And how many times have I asked myself this same question, over and over again. I thought about it a lot in Maui.

Oh gosh- I remember now. Why I left paradise.

I remember sitting on the grass lawn of the tantra school and staring at the ocean. The sun was perfect warm, and the cool breeze chased all the mosquitoes away and it was.... almost... the most perfect moment.

I remember thinking, I am running. I have run from my problems. They will all be there when I come back. This is why I can't be completely satisfied. It was like I'd gone to heaven too early.

So I came back, and things have become complicated again like they always are, and there is no relief in sight, because I'm not on an island thousands of miles away from the things in this world that reveal to me my own shortcomings.

I wanted to ask myself whether or not I was running away from a problem, or toward something I was meant to experience- but I already know the answer to that. I have this fear that I am not so clever and brilliant as I always thought I would be some day, in the future, when I wasn't quite so fucked up, or lost, or immature.

I do miss seeing the beauty in myself, though. That's what I saw in Maui. The beauty in myself. I'd like to see that again. I know it's there, somewhere.

At work today Tara saw the look on my face and said, "Quarter-life crisis?"

I guess so. She reminded me that everyone goes through this period of depression and feeling lost and having no direction. I thought to myself, I never intended to win the award for originality on this one. I know we're all going through the same things, and when we're old or dead, we all will have survived it. It's not that.

Alexia told me too, this will pass. Nick told me too, these things take time. I am nodding. I know. And then I realize that Tara told me everybody goes through these things so that maybe I will not feel so lonely about it. I think to myself, we are all alone together.

At work today Arie told me about his quarter-life crisis, in the form of a story. It really made me feel better. I really like stories, especially when people tell me about their lives, and what they were thinking and how they felt about it. For some reason I find it incredibly educational, even though when it comes to these things we are all equally lost and wondering.

At the end of this day I still don't know about running, or whether or not I will. I hunger so much for that relief, but I know it just delays the inevitable. Everyone at work said what a city person would say when I mentioned that I was thinking of going back to Maui: "I can see why you would want to go back there, but it's so far away from everything, and from the rest of the world. I mean, it's an island."

I think about meditation, and about focusing on nothing, instead of everything. In a way it's like running. But you always come back, and you come back more whole, somehow. That's how I always felt about it. Running, I mean.

I guess I'm just wondering if there's something to sweating it out, standing your ground, and staying in one place, too. I wish I had an answer so that I could come full circle, but that's not where I'm at-

- I'm somewhere out there instead, walking the scrawling line, wondering what kind of picture I'm painting.