i sped home on my bike tonight. frantically escaping the crowded bars. trading in the noise and bustle of people around me for dark and empty streets. cool breezes and star filled skies. i had a conversation today. another version of one i seem to have every so often. when i feel i need to figure out my life. and i beat myself up for not knowing what the hell i am doing. or where i have spent the last thirty-two years of my life. when i run around like a complete spazz, trying to find some concrete evidence that i have not been here in vain. but all i can do is stand, trembling, shaking my head, staring at my empty hands.
in all my inarticulate ramblings today, becca, this is what i meant to say:
“I got to thinking about how much time I spend in my life crashing around like a great gasping fish, either squirming away from some uncomfortable distress or flopping hungrily toward ever more pleasure. And I wondered whether it might serve me (and those who are burdened with the task of loving me) if I could learn to stay still and endure a bit more without always getting dragged along on the potholed road of circumstance.” (Eat Pray Love, p. 173).