Well, we didn't go Curling, instead we played Ice Hockey, or better said, I stood outside the rink wearing skates and watching. At one point the teacher took me to another rink, it was empty and looked like it had never even been skated on. As much as I would have loved to have some sort of "Cutting Edge" moment, there was a group of teen aged boys on the side of the rink watching me hold on to the wall for dear life. Really, there is nothing like an hour and a half of P.E. to bring back feelings of shame from High School.
Aside from Hockey, the morning was actually really nice. Walking to the rink at eight this morning felt great. It was crisp and cold, blue skies and sun. Pilatus was covered in snow and made for the most amazing backdrop on my walk towards embarrassment. After P.E. Lil' Sam, Big Dan and I went and got breakfast and took the long way back to school. The rest of the day went just as smoothly, having gotten two really good grades on my last two tests. It was a good day, and although I couldn't keep the baby Zebra out of the back of my mind, I was able to work around it and still feel pretty good.
I woke up an hour early this morning and took advantage of the extra time by calling Skipper. Skipper isn't doing well. Adapting to life back in L.A. is not going as smoothly as I would have hoped for her, and it seems that she is wanting to come back to the 6003. I don't know what it is, but it seems to me that a lot of the people I have been talking to would rather be anywhere but where they are. Same story just different place. The search and desperation for "Home."
Home. The moment you move away is the moment that such a simple noun takes on a whole new meaning. It means various things for everyone. Whether home is where you grew up, where your heart is, where you are at this very moment, or back in Oklahoma, Kansas, Texas, beautiful California, etc. This one concept, idea, feeling, place, whatever, seems to have its hold on a lot of us. On one side, when you move away you get to experience the newness, the adventure, the excitement, and the fear of leaving "Home." On the other side, once you leave, you can never go back. It's the price you pay. You can go back to your home town, back to the house you grew up in, back to the place you were before you left, but it won't feel the same. Although the place might have not changed, you have, and therefor things usually won't feel the same.
So what are we to do? Keep moving? Go back to last place you felt at home? I have no clue, but it's something that I think about a lot. I use to always think that home was where my parents and sister were, and for the most part it's kind of true. They are my "Home." A lot of the time though, I think it is where I am at the moment, mainly my apartment. I will however be moving out of here in nine months, so then what?
So I am sitting here trying to figure out what to do about Skipper. While Skipper was in Luzern, we spent a lot of time drinking Cola Light and bitching about the city, gushing over California. Now, it would be easier to just brush it all off with, "The grass is always greener...," but the girl is hurting. The problem is, I can't give an answer for a question I myself am obsessed with (Skipper luckily never looks to me for answers, she smart enough to know better).
So here's what I have come up with: change sucks, it hurts and it isn't easy. Change can some times make you feel hopeless and alone and insecure, usually all at the same time. Change is also the thing in life that forces us to grow and puts us face to face with who we are and who we need to be. It forces us to find the strength we didn't know we had, pick ourselves up and continue to live. So let's suck it up, realize that the memories you might have from a place will always be better then the place itself, and that most likely there will come a day where you miss the place you are at right now.
Read the words for what they really mean,
We shall not cease exploration, and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time.
T.S. Elliot
You are epic, Skip.
Nashville 2008: It ain't going to be no Salzburg!
1 comment:
i needed that. you just injected life into my veins. i don't know how we stay so intensely connected with an ocean separating us, but thank you for taking my heartache into your apartment and breaking it down, really inspecting the pieces and bringing up different shreds of advice to share that only make sense to me. i listen to you a lot more than you give yourself credit for. this was my fave blog. we love to try and tackle the subject of home...and all that it entails. i love hearing your angle. miss you my little ice skater! hug luzern for me. float in that pink sky if it comes around one night. remember the night i got that guy to GIVE me his lighter? he was swiss too. and we shared some rolled nupro by the lake...one of our last days.
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