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Published: October 30th 2011
Parks in Cleveland, Ohio
I think I may need rehab. I feel like the teat has been ripped away from me and I am just expected to hunt on my own. I was hoping for a weaning process or at least a very slow transition from sea to land. But by my own doing, I threw myself from one extreme to the next. So I find myself sitting here with 2 layers of socks, 4 shirts and wool sweatpants; staring out my Dad’s back door at a dreary, cloud covered winters day in Cleveland, Ohio. I couldn’t tell you if it were noon or midnight as the natural lighting gives no indication to there being a difference. And I wonder to myself, “Tahiti for this?”
I knew this debacle would invade my thoughts. I was almost ready to deal with it in advance; waiting for it to creep into my thought process and when it did I screamed, “Ha! I knew your were coming.” Obviously before its rude approach I thought I had it under control. But as a person who embraces change, fosters evolution and magnetizes towards positivism, I feel rehab would only stunt my chameleon process. So I write this blog instead.
Staying on the right path.
The difference between my way of life on a boat versus my life on land is worlds apart. Excuse the pun. It’s quite hard to put into words why the difference is so vast. But this is a blog, I am a writer and my therapy is a flow of thoughts to words. And so I try my best to make that happen. Since having been back on land I find myself facing this question often. Oddly, the need from others to understand the difference and in some therapeutic way the need for me to explain is evenly grounded. Always a hard answer. Always a different response. I find it mostly comes out distorted and unclear. But I genuinely revert to the same feelings, it’s those feelings that are easily felt and so difficult to portray to an outsider. Deep down, at a cellular level, I believe no matter my explanation, no matter your experience – the gist of my story is transferred.
I miss the ME whom works on boats. I miss my days of instant coffee rather than Starbucks; a hike up Table Mountain instead of a Sunday filled with blockbuster movies. I miss the adventure
of seeing a new country rather than the adventure of driving through rush hour. I miss wearing a bikini instead of heels; and feeling the salt in my curly hair over the straightened version it takes on here in the States. I miss the crystal waters of Tahiti versus the murky lakes of Ohio; working to live rather than living to work. Although each time I venture back to the States I try to hold onto that version of me as tight as possible, somehow I loose my grip and end up somewhere in limbo, feeling unbalanced, uncomfortable and lost.
The last sentence I just wrote started as one thought whilst constructing this blog. Over the course of the editing it has formed my next few journal entries and so although my depth of need to write more continues – the average attention span will only afford a few more paragraphs, and so I summarize.
What I miss most is the journey. I miss the natural high on life to see new things, experience nature and submerge myself into different cultures. I must make a distinction between the job itself and the actual feeling I crave for. What
I continue to seek or need or desire can be attained here and now. A lesson I try to remember daily, because living in the now and in the moment is the only living I wish to do.
Having forced this lesson upon myself – I take off my layers of clothing or more accurately get comfortable in the atmosphere of layering and I set out to experience my now. My now happens to be Cleveland, Ohio. Instead of viewing it out the window, which I so frequently did in the past – I ventured to see it in a different light. My Mom and I set out to the Reserves of the area in hopes for a good photo op. As I witnessed the trees change from their comfort greens to their fading’s of oranges and reds, smelled the distinct aroma of burning log fires, watched the squirrels and birds ponder their winter homes; I internally felt content. The natural beauty still surrounds me; it just takes an extra push to see. Acknowledging that nudge attains the sensation I desire and I then seek out the feelings I felt void of.
In efforts to keep that ME
present I said yes to going to a log cabin the weekend following. It had no electricity, no water and really nothing to offer other than a bed and an amazing view. Note to self, if you just start dating someone, say no to the log cabin - as you most likely don’t look your best and peeing in a bucket isn’t so sexy. Putting my vainness to the side – it brought me back to basics. It made me feel like I was back to the boat version of me. Our day consisted of hiking and talking. Our night filled with s’mores and ash. A reminder that we are enough, simplicity is beautiful and if you can survive a winter’s night in Ohio by fire only, you can survive anything!
I don’t have to be in Tahiti or on a boat to feel the natural high that I miss; a lesson I learned as this blog evolved. If I pause for a moment, seek the splendor of my now I know beauty surrounds, it just takes an open eye to see.
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