There was a time not long ago when everyday felt like flying. Even if I was tired, I was still in the air. Now...now I'm nowhere. I'm in a hole, a rut. I'm underground. Digging or crawling my way out seems an impossibility right now. I've been a little obsessed with Jackson Browne these days and he put the sentiment correctly in the song Before the Deluge, "And in the end they traded their tired wings for the resignation that living brings". That's about where I am at. It's the resignation that keeps me from flying, not the inability. Once lost, how do I get back whatever "fire inside" it was that made me fly?
Moving has been harder than I expected. Isolation is both a friend and an enemy. I am almost past the point of being flippant about the pain. It takes a lot for me to get to the place where I can't make jokes. Well, I still make jokes to other people, but my heart is not in it for the moment, which kinda kills the funny. Although, some people are nice enough to give the courtesy laugh...keeps things from getting too awkward.
What I need is to get out of this house - no, strike that - what I really need it to have a reason to get out of this house. Being out there with no reason is worse than being in here.
Things will get better, they always do. But even if they don't, I will keep telling myself that. I just get in these moods sometimes where nothing helps, 'cept music. The right song at the right time can move mountains. So, I will leave you with another quote from my current obsession,
"I am just a day away from where I want to be. Now I'm running home, baby, like a river to the sea." -Jackson Browne from Your Bright Baby Blues
The first part resonates with me the most right now, but in time, the second part will be just as true.
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