My move was a success. I didn’t do anything. I hired movers. I still feel a little uncomfortable with this choice. Its over and done with, but it cost money, that I don’t really have. Plus, I feel a little guilty like I should have found someone cheaper or just tried to find some people to help me. I’ve never ever paid anyone to move me before, mainly because I could never afford it, I still can’t, but I needed to not have to think about it. God the luxury of the rich, I bet they do that all the time, “Ugh God, I just don’t want to deal or think about it,” Then they just throw some money at some people, “you do it.” Anyway, I am trying to think of it like this: Breath in breath out, get over it, its been done you are moved-sheese. Step one has been completed, I have moved, and I am living in a neighborhood I have never spent time in before now. It feels like I have moved to a completely different town. That is an interesting thing about Portland, so many neighborhoods are so different you can feel like you are in a new place.
I’ve been making serious efforts in shedding my skin. Not to change who I am, but to molt, remove the things that didn’t go as hoped, and move in a new direction. I had pictured certain events in my life like standing on the edge of a cliff, and preparing to jump, and not being sure if I would land, but hoping I would not be alone in that leap. Now that I have reached a new precipice, I know I jumped alone, and no matter how much I would like to go back I can’t. I picture in front of me a forest, and it is dark, and I have no idea what is inside or if there is another side, but I do see some light. There is nothing to do, but drop into another cliff or to walk into the forest. God, I’m so damn cheesy sometimes, “oh dark forest and the cliffs of moher.” Like I’m in the Princess Bride or something. Aww- I wish.
Where the hell is this post going? Good question.
I moved, things have been uncomfortable and sad and I’m making steps to walk away from the hopes of the past and this move is the first step. Next step, is to go home to visit my parents both of whom I haven’t seen in nearly three maybe four years. Then find employment that can lead me toward what I’d really like to be doing; which I know to some degree, I have all the ingredients, and they are spread around me, but I don’t have a recipe. I have to figure out how all these things fit together.
I will start the Playwrite training workshop in November so I am heading back to working with teens. There is a path here I know it, but like Robert Frost said, I came to two paths and I took the one less travelled and what he didn’t mention is the less travelled one has a lot of stuff covering the path so I need me a machete, some water, a backpack, sleeping bag, and a ton of trail mix, maybe some MRE’s. Damn! I got a million pieces of cheese analogies.
A side note, I have worked out a new short story that I posted (part of it) here. It was a story I had been thinking of writing about for a long time, I kinda of have an idea for a collection of short stories, I even have the title of the collection in my head.
New step one: diligence.
The Road Not Taken
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth.
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same.
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I–
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.