June 4, 2011

The Way The Wind Is Blowing

"Which ever way the wind is blowing, I like the way this is going..." 


I noted this lyric, discovered on a Pandora station, May 11, during those few minutes mid-afternoon when the sun splashes through the window. It could have been a Friday afternoon with a Starbucks in hand. It could have been those first few days of a new season. I like the way this is going...

I don't know what happened to May.

It's a blur of days now, undefined and vacant. I have empty markers where I usually chronicle snapshots of daily life. My personal journal sits on the shelf untouched. My last Today post was May 5th. I last uploaded to Flickr on May 8th. I posted a mere 10 times on my tumblr. Here, in this space, I wrote more about last May than about this May.

What happened?

I felt it heavy in my bones this morning. Change. I stepped onto the metro and sank into my seat. Put an old song on repeat, one I haven't listened to in years. It has been a long few weeks.

I cried on the metro three weeks ago. It was 11pm and I was overtired. A signal broke and we were stopped for 45 minutes. My work happy hour had gone on too long and I only had one beer and not enough friends. To say I missed would be an understatement and I let the tears slip down before I put my head down and fell asleep. Before I finally arrived home at midnight and crawled into bed.

I didn't cry this morning. It was not even 8am. I had too many faces looking in my direction. And I wasn't sad. I just hadn't realized until then that change had arrived and perhaps already gone and I now have to sort through the pieces of a puzzle I never ordered.

This type of change leaves me weary. The kind I don't see coming. The kind I don't see leaving. The kind that sometimes isn't mine. The kind that crawls into my bones on a Friday morning and settles into the marrow. The kind that makes my limbs heavy.

I propped my head up with my hand and shut my eyes. I reminded myself that I can navigate this. Open and close my world. Listen to the whispers. I wondered where that early May wind went and turned up the volume.

"Please say honestly
You won't give up on me
And I shall believe
I shall believe"