I think all people need all things. Some in different measurements, but all need some measure of all things. People need community, socialization, the magic that comes from a collective…the swell of a city, the hum of streets, the dizzying music and light that comes spilling out of sidewalks and down alleyways…the mystical maze of a city that continues to get you lost, continues to get you found, continues to trace your path up and down in endless circles where time is always chasing just behind you. And people need nature. People need fresh air and the expanse of the sky to clear their head. Space. Grass. The swell of the seasons. The perspective of humility against nature. Cities get so insular, so self-important, so self-involved. And I fear they are not conducive to the real, soul-clearing work that adults need to do to breathe out. To hear your thoughts against the sky. To rattle out your madness to the ground and to the trees and to be renewed in the swarm of the earth. I fear too many people are banging their heads against too many concrete walls wondering why they can’t escape from their own thoughts. I fear too many people’s thoughts keep bouncing and bouncing in circles off of all the brick and mortar and steel that their bodies are encased in and are not swirling in the atmosphere, dowsing themselves in the dew of the morning, shooting themselves up the trunks of trees and dissolving like oxygen back into the air. The earth always takes my worries from me. And I wish everyone could find this healing.
I don’t know what a future looks like that makes way for some full life. That is sustainable. That is rich and that provides all of what life has to offer – the sublime solitude, the riveting songs of a city, the silence of the setting sun, and the twirl of blinking lights and raging buses. Maybe if transportation was simple, easy, fast, efficient, clean. And I mean VERY fast. We would all be able to appear and disappear in all of the fantastic elements of the world. To meet in the city, to pound the pavements, to dance, to sing, to laugh together as a group, and then to fall asleep to the swell of insects and the buzzing of stars through a thin, gauzy roof. To travel fast and in a clean way – might this change everything? Could we get everything? Would it inherently take away from the mystical aspects of traveling? From the appreciation of all of our ancient spaces and our sacred treks?
And how would anyone stay in one place? Perhaps that’s what we do need, to be nomads. For everyone to have the real honest opportunity to see the whole world. To gain the whole perspective. And to settle where they may. In cities, on secluded mountain tops, in sweet smelling meadows. But to have be able to move quickly, immediately. Teleportation sounds good. But does it ruin the world? Have we not moved with the strange and fascinating story we have as humanity because of these innate constraints on our movement? Did so much of who we are not develop out of our innate necessity to take root, to keep hold, to grow WITH a piece of land? So what would we lose and what would we gain. What have we ALREADY gained and lost? Hasn’t this already happened, in all reality?
I don’t know what the future holds and I have been reminded about 10,000 times that it is pointless for me to try to tie it down.
And my life. Is the same way. I am just waiting for something to come and tip the scales and help me make this decision. I am just waiting for something, anything…any something that will help me decide whether to leave him, or stay and have another child and get a fucking mortgage and la dee da. I don’t know how to make this decision based on only the information I have now and I don’t have very much time. I’ve got to decide. I can’t get pregnant again unless I know it is a good thing and my timeline is running out. And he’s going to come back very soon and I need to know what to say. I can’t keep him at bay for much longer. Oh man oh man oh man.