For the Sake of the Universe

Breaking tonight at close to sunset at the Gallery. Today is glowing and I am content. We had an easy walk in from Tucker Springs after an easy morning, and made it here with enough time to set up shelters and do P-time well before the light leaves us. I am sitting behind my shit-show of a shelter chowing down on field manager chocolate and sesame sticks, having already changed my clothes and layered up for the evening, and feeling pretty damn stoked for life in this moment. Things are sort of clicking so far this shift in an understated and soft kind of way. I think my guide instincts are beginning to kick in, the ones everyone always told me would come. I've had good luck and shared good intentions and have been pretty right on with the general feel for the group so far. I don't really have the words to describe it, more then just falling into place. There were no fireworks or anything, life just got easier and less intensive this week.

There went the sun and I can honestly say I am about equal parts filled with dread as excited to see the sunrise from the white cliffs in the morning. This whole winter thing is growing on me I suppose, but not too loudly or discretely. I finally just sort of feel settled, with the process and the whole idea. And with the crapton of chocolate that I consume on a daily basis to make it through.

Though today feels miles and miles from last shift as far as internal turmoil goes, I am today working on parsing some of the feelings still writhing about in the pit of my stomach. In some respects I am facing my greatest fear--that I had a short and very powerful intimate experience and thats that, no greater god-like dimension, no earth shattering second act. I am facing the fear that I have been (will be?) forgotten by this boy, and that even with all the barriers between us finally gone the interest and desire will have waned. For me I think that would be the worst case scenario--to finally have the opportunity to be together again, and to get shot down. I think this is also just my mourning process, and a fairly classic attempt to think my way out--the epic battle between idealist and realist, head and heart, continues.

I think the difference today is that I will be direct and upfront, if and when I get the chance. I think I could be honest, even when it seems foolish, all for the sake of taking that chance and not looking back on this whole experience with regret. If I could right now, I would tell him to have faith that the universe is well intentioned, and will bring us together if we are supposed to be. I would tell him not to be afraid of what is to come, and don't shut down a good thing because of that fear and apprehension. I would tell him I can't hide from how I feel and be a hypocrite to all of my students. I would tell him to put aside some of the baggage that people carry about relationships for a little while, and give me a chance. I would tell him that my view of being with someone involves hanging out, going on some adventures, cooking good food, and poetry. My vision of an intimate relationship involves a lot of laughing and a lot of rabble-rousing, and a fair number of sunsets and sunrises. My version is honesty and challenging each other and fighting and reuniting. Mine is space and independence mixed with enough passion and curiosity not to get clingy. Mine is a scary new experience ballanced with trust and the good sense not to take oneself or the other too seriously. Call it what you will, label it what you need, just dont get caught up in all those unvoiced fears and expectations. I would tell him today how impressed I am by his genuine nature and all the sunshine he carries through the world. I would tell him how I read books of his and I hear his voice, how I read and am a bit homesick for a place I've never experienced. I would ask for honesty in return, and for the truth, his truth about what happened between us, and the freedom to move foreward.

The afterglow smudges of sunset are rapidly fading, and I'm thinking my attempt to hide out 'till fire happens without me might just be unreasonible. I love the me and the evenings that time can be told by temperature and the number of stars in the sky, not the number of cups of coffee I've drank or the amount of television I've inhaled.