I took a cab to the ocean on the 7th day of my trip. Chatty fellow the cabbie, pushy too. Full of stories. We bartered a flat rate and got a tiny tour of this strange place we’d found ourselves in.
The idea that my time at the water was limited vexed me some. But I managed to find my Zen. Always do.
I walked, I picked up rocks, I put my hand in the water and listened.
There is something so very soothing about the ocean. It feels like I am watching the earth breathe as the swells come in and out. Suddenly I can breathe too.
I was in Newfoundland. This big desolate rock covered in dirt and sticks and fishing villages. Nearly no beaches, just coves and cliffs and ocean.
I could have swore she told me to go home.
But I am back home now, as I am writing this to you, and my heart isn’t exactly here with me.
I am reminded that I’ve never really known what home was.
5 years ago I couldn’t have explained what happy was either. I had known pockets of time wherein I could say “yes, in this moment I am happy” but they were fleeting.
As I changed and evolved and tried to figure out life and love I can now sweetly shake my head at my old self who thought something big had to happen for the moment to be memorable and say “oh honey, just you wait.” I shuffled through her memories and found motes and iotas and 5 minutes here and there of peace.
Consequently, I have more of them now. Sometimes they are the big things. Like getting on planes and having adventures. Driving into the country and finding Valhalla in the woods in a quiet room. Floating in the water at the apex of the eclipse. They last for a while then my brain returns to its regularly scheduled program of ‘I need a smoke’ or ‘I am hungry’ or ‘what’s next’ and the chatter resumes.
My mind is rarely quiet, even in sleep I dream confusing dreams. 2 days into my trip I dreamt of traveling and finding myself in a hotel that was magic and being invited to go through a portal to somewhere amazing. But in my dream I couldn’t get through the portal, I had to let go of things.
I sat at the bar the night after the ocean and thought about going home. The club started to fill up and I made a bit of money. I sat at the bar between stage shows. A boy I had met the week before who called me Zodiac Mama came by, so I sat with him between dances.
When I came back 2 other boys had showed up. Young ones, not townies but from Up Shore they called it.
You need to understand, these boys talk like Brad Pitt in Snatch, fast and hard and full of sayings that made no sense to me. Their words are not in any order that my ear has heard before. So the entire time I sat sandwiched between the 3 of them my mind was on a lag trying to keep up and comprehend what I’d heard. Also, it didn’t help I was staring at the greenest eyes I have ever seen, nothing in nature to describe the color, except maybe peridot in sunshine, absinthe maybe. Green fairies live there.
We teased and talked.
I liked him, it was palpable. Like poking a bonfire, there were sparks floating in the dark and it was warm. I gave him my number. Teased him a bit, showing him I had gotten his messages but hadn’t messaged back.
He was young and I knew it, I didn’t want to know how young.
I never do.
He asked me for a dance, and then about my age. I didn’t lie.
I never do.
He smiled. Told me he was 22.
My hands moved on their own. I couldn’t stop touching him and none of me wanted to.
I went back on stage and his buddy got tangly with some other customer. I kept dancing but kept my eye on them too. They won the fight.
As I stepped down and the bouncer pulled them apart, I panicked at the thought of him leaving, a very loud voice in my head insisted I had to kiss him before they got kicked out.
So I did.
While my eyes were closed I had a vision of us laying in a bed somewhere, holding onto each other.
My mind went quiet in that moment, and every other moment I spent with him.