Thursday, November 03, 2005
These Gypsy Feet
After spending hours toiling away on a story in the computer lab, getting lost in a city I supposedly lived in for years and working out quite the sweat...I headed home in a tired body. I called Kim and stopped by for a visit. Since she had Madison, I miss her a lot. I want to see her more. I want to see Madison more. I want to see her with Madison more. So I was glad when I walked in and the house was quiet, just her family and me. And it wasn't but ten minutes before she put that little baby in my arms again and took a picture. For some reason, I find myself checking my words twice before I say anything to her. I wonder if what I'm saying is stupid now that she is a mother. When I ask questions about the labor or how Madison sleeps or what she eats or anything else. When I mention the word 'bar' or the verb 'drinking' I feel cliche. The friend that can't get it together and only thinks about consuming that which makes us irresponsible. When we sit talking in her living room I am aware of my...singleness. I don't mean single as in a twenty-something with no man or recent relationship or anything like that. Just the singleness. The threeness of her house. The multipleness in the homes of all my friends. The oneness in mine. I'm also aware of her settledness. She picks up Madison and feeds her as if she's been doing it for years. She leans over the crib as if that position is the most comfortable position anyone could ever be in. I suddenly feel outside of something but inside something at the same time. I'm outside the realm of parenthood and family. But I'm in something else altogether. When I pull out of the driveway, a song plays on the radio... These gypsy feet keep changin' shoes/And are you the one that I belong to/That'll be my saving grace/And guide my way back home/My path is like a broken sidewalk/With cracks and stones and tear stained raindrops/That testify to the dreams that won't let go/I wanna know/Can you love this traveling soul I'm aware of the lives that others lead. And this life of mine. With its twists and turns and ups and downs and uncertainties...it's moments of clarity and it's moments of dense fog. I am unsettled. I move from thought to feeling to emotion to moment to minute to second and back again. I move quickly through introspection, observation, alienation and collaboration. I move quickly, steadily, unsteadily, slowly yet somehow...surely. These gypsy feet keep changing shoes. When things feel the hard way there's something in me that tells me it's my way. Don't question. Just move. Just move. I guess some people are meant to settle in unsettledness. I don't often wonder if someone out there will ever love me forever like in tv shows, books or in those rare cases - real life. I don't often wonder if someone out there will be home when I stagger in after a long day. If someone will ever pass me a baby because it's my job to feed it. I don't often wonder if you will love my traveling soul. And tonight, I realized, I don't have to. Because I have wonderful friends. And I'm in love with each of them. And something tells me that they love me too. And they don't keep score of who has what. Just as we are. And lucky for me, that's all I need to feel settled.