Saturday, March 11, 2006

Saturday Sun Soaking

Finally, a day of nothingness. But it is funny how when you get what you want, sometimes it can freak you out, for a second at least. After weeks of rushing, finally, I was going to be all alone to let my mind drift. A Saturday so no 9 to 5 doldrums, Margot going to Montpelier for the day, Mom busy elsewhere, Tanner off to work - just me and my thoughts. But as they all left and the door continued opening and shutting, a little pit opened up inside me. "Oh no! Don’t go! Don’t leave me all alone with just my thoughts!? They'll eat me alive without daily chatter and chit chat to cloud them!"

It is like you have been running, top speed with burning lungs, teary eyes and you want to slow down, you know you should, so you pull up quick and start to topple over, over, until you fall off into nothingness and suddenly, there is no longer ground beneath your feet and you just freefall for a bit. And then eventually you settle down and accept the freefall feeling and...slowly, surely...you find your footing.
That was today for me. And once I was truly alone to sip coffee and skim the New Yorker, a lightness settled over my chattering brain. Time to lie in a patch of errant sun, gaze out the window at the barren yellow yard and enter out into the wilderness to soak up as many rays as was possible. I walked across the greenish hills pumping ipod tunes. They were all just right, an instrumental, meditative piano piece from the Diva soundtrack, Sinatra singing "You'll Never Walk Alone:"

When you walk through a storm,
hold your head up high,
and don't be afraid of the dark.
At the end of the storm,
is the golden sky,
and the sweet silver song of the lark.
Walk on through the wind,
walk on through the rain,
Though your dreams be tossed and blown,
Walk on, walk on with hope in your heart,
And you'll never walk alone,
you'll never walk alone.
And then some random songs: The Cars, Garbage, Simon and Garfunkel, T-Rex, Bernstein, Portishead, The Passion soundtrack - damn, I love ipod shuffle.

I found a spot and sat down under a tree, gazing up at the sun and soaking up as much as I could. The empty field and the crows flying overhead helped quiet the chattering monkey down to a dull hum - like a brook gurgling off in the distance. The sun reflected off the crow's oily black wings as it swooped overhead and I closed my eyes and drifted past the green patch of nothingness and into the perfect blue sky where all was right in the world.
The problem is, once you switch gears back to deadbeat nothingness mode, it is hard to come back - back to the land of the chattering monkeys where the conversation comes hard and fast and never lets up, not even to let you breath. And this is why I am so GOOD at being unemployed. Yes, the nothingness can be a little overwhelming and intimidating at times, but ultimately, it is the quiet open spaces where I feel most safe. This is why I came back to VT. I left CA because it was too cluttered, too full of cement and speeding and ideas spinning out of control. I came back to quiet the inner monkey, it hasn’t worked yet, and I still long for CA's sun.

I used to get my down time up at this swimming pool called Strawberry Canyon in Berkeley, CA. It was up in the middle of UCB's campus, across from the stadium and down the hill from the science museum and the top secret Lawrence Berkeley labs where they made bombs or something. I used to walk up to the pool when I was 19 and had just moved to CA, into a frat neighborhood.
We would lie underneath the thick grove of oh so green trees that surrounded the pool and just sink off into a sunlight nothingness with sparkling water gurgling in the distance. Years later, I used to go swim laps at the pool when I lived on Spruce St in North Berkeley. I would ride my bike up every there day and swim back and forth in the adult lap lanes. I wore flippers to get extra speed and when I came out after many mermaid minutes of breast strokes, the crawl and the backstroke, my fingers would be all puckered and water kissed. Then I would collapse onto a nearby towel and listen to my headphones as the trees wove back and forth in the warm summer breeze. Later, I'd ride down to Euclid Ave and grab a taco on my way home. This little activity kept me sane.

I sometimes think about Strawberry Canyon when I am soaking in the winter sun in VT. Leaning against the bright sunny window in the hallway down by the bathrooms at work, my forehead pressed as close as it will go, soaking, soaking, pretending those sun spots are behind my eyelids in Berkeley California. I let my mind drift and dream that when I open my eyes, I'll be wearing a bikini and facing a glistening pool at Strawberry Canyon. But no, when I open up, I see the staff parking lot and, far off in the distance, a little sliver of Lake Champlain and the green mountains beyond that. Well, at least it is sun!

And I will be back in that same work window sun spot Monday morning while my chattering monkey brain reminds me about that great time I had this weekend walking all alone and soaking up all that sun and all those CA memories. And I will continue to try and snatch up bits of nothingness every chance I get...

DBC21 * The California Show * Enjoy this montage of CA dreaming and VT Fall walking...

1 comment:

Tanner M. said...

that was an excellent read babe, you're a natural storyteller, i want more inner-eva!