To ease the constant feeling of isolation from living in a very small mountain town, i have been making frequent trips to visit friends who are still in Colorado. As I began to take to the road for a recent trip, I found myself rifling through my collection of CDs (remember those?!) in desperate need of some fresh sounds. I stumbled upon a mix CD that I made while in high school. I thought hard to try to remember what was on it.
I drew a blank. I smiled. I threw it in!
Nice trip down memory lane! Perfect pick for the trip. One of the songs happened to be one of my favorites to sing along with. It is very laid back and fits my vocal range perfectly! Just a fun song to sing! Red Hot Chili Pepper's Melancholy Mechanics (click the name for song). Great driving song!
persistent mystic faults my vision
its like always this point of collision
its raining in my cranium
my head feels like a stadium
3 pound of love
about to burst
inside my 3 pound
universe
its raining in my cranium
my head feels like a stadium
these are the melancholy mechanics of my mind
symbols I've been given to express my goal
always come up short
you know they just don't get that low
its raining in my cranium
my head feels like a stadium
these are the melancholy mechanics of my mind
Quick release chemicals strike with incomprehensible precision
Biorganic electronics targeting microscopic destinations of devastation
cleaner than light
meaner than a laser fight in the night 2000
billions of micro maniacs unknown to most as the uncontrollable soldiers
of suffering succotash
instantaneous infiltration leaves me with a case of bustation, frustration,
alone in the constellation of alienation detached from empty conversation
I wait
I wait
for the waaaaaave to break.
That last bit is spoken in a very quick rhythm. Really fits those days when I feel relaxed, yet also very productive and creative. My mind may be racing with thoughts and ideas, but I find myself very relaxed and do not feel the need to actually present these thoughts in any physical way. No need to write or create or even make them verbal. I am content in knowing that I had the thought and that it is still stored away in mind for another day. So, at the end of the day...I may not have much to show for this laid back brainstorm. That is okay. Perhaps these thoughts need refinement before they are to be harvested.
The day is not exciting. It is not depressing.
It is...melancholy.
I love this song. Its quirky and relaxed beat fits my mood well. I picture myself with a cup of tea or a nice glass of wine just sitting back in a comfy chair in a small coffee house. Warm lights. People talking. The band playing in the corner. Me - smiling at myself as another crazy thought begins to develop. Maybe this one will get written down. Maybe...
Let's just see how it ripens.
Ah, how true that phrase can be!
I went back to Limon today. This is where I lived for 8th - 12th grades. The last time I was there was a little over a year ago...and that was for a dear friend's funeral. Needless to say, I was a little apprehensive. I had decided that it would do me good to revisit this town as I navigated this transitional time of my life.
I tagged along with my father and the high school speech team that he is coaching. Unfortunately, this meant leaving at about 4:30am to get there in time. I slept. I slept the whole way. When I very drowsily awoke from my rather deep nap, we were there. The trip seemed almost instantaneous. As I rubbed the sleepy blur from my eyes, I began to recognize the all too familiar streets and sights of this town.
There is where I stalled my first manual transmission so many times that my friend had to take over. That is where I got my hair cut and sat chatting with some good friends. I used to date a girl who lived there. I marched up that street in a band uniform with a trombone held high. I spent hours in that small movie theater. I got my first speeding ticket there. I worked in that cemetery for five summers ...and laid a friend to rest there.
It was all a little overwhelming and strangely familiar. Especially walking through those double doors. I knew these halls and that smell. This collection of lockers, classrooms, and offices was my home for years. Yet as I thought back on those days and reminisced, I began to feel uncomfortable. As if I did not belong there.
I spent the day immersed in the speech and debate world that I had bid farewell to years ago. The familiar faces rushed at me so quickly that often the names did not follow. The day was mostly awkward encounters of pleasantries and quick updates on life. It is rough enough to be unsure of my own future, but having to explain this fact to everyone I reunited with was too much.
Of course, there were some people that I was overjoyed to see again. Some of my favorite teachers ever. The ones that really deserve the credit for getting me where I am today. The people that I ended up forming strong bonds with...better than most of my classmates. It warmed my heart to see them and share with them my success in academia. My old pastors as well. They never stopped keeping in touch with me: little notes, phone calls, quick lunches. They were a big part of my life in Limon and have a continued interest and compassion for my life. I do love them.
There were the mildly awkward interactions and the joyfully, heartwarming interactions. Also, there were some eye-opening encounters. Example: A great friend. A mentor. A man that I shared many thoughts with about God and the church. This man...had little to say to me. He seemed less alive. Less bright and did not have that joyful and inquisitive spirit within him. Another: Fellow members of the church that I attended long ago. People who had told me once before that they saw me in seminary school and wanted me to come right back there and preach for them. They still believe this. The fact that I have graduated with no immediate career planned out only encourages this strong belief. Others, whom I had once been at least somewhat close with, would not even recognize me.
Before we left that day, I wandered the halls after they had been emptied of the speech and debate activity. I moved slowly through the empty passageways, running my hand along the smooth walls. I found my old locker from senior year. I walked to some of my favorite classrooms...half those teachers had retired and moved on. I made sure to make the long trek down the narrow hallway towards my favorite room. I remembered this hallway the best. Smooth white cement bricks on one side. Rough red bricks on the other. Two English classrooms on the right, the band room on the left, and a outside door at the end towards the right. Straight down this narrow passage of my past was the art room. I spent hours in this room. A class every year and countless hours after school. Working on projects. Exploring my imagination. And spending time with one of my closest friends. Mr. Frank, my art teacher. I remember so many fun times and countless meaningful conversations. He was real. He shared his joys and frustrations. He challenged me and encouraged me. I stood for a moment in that messy, dimly lit room. The smell of paint and rubber cement was heavy in the air. The airbrushes...the glass etching sand...the large set of drawers that once held my work. For a moment, I wished to return to those warm and joyful times in this very room.
Only for a moment.
I quickly realized that I had once had a conversation in this room about my eagerness for the future. I was so excited to get out. Venture beyond these walls and this town. Mr. Frank had been sharing my excitement and reassuring me that I could do anything I wanted. But, he told me to make sure that I enjoyed what I did. He said that was the most important thing. It was a moment of quick realization that I had out-grown this place. There was a bigger world out there that I had only begun to explore. I had other needs to meet, other friendships to make, and other places to go. All I could take from here were some warm memories, some life lessons, and a handful of true friendships.
I sighed. Took one last look around that room and then left. Made my way back through the halls. Past the classrooms where I had learned so much. Past the ghosts of my life...friends and memories. As I made my way to those double doors again, I could even hear familiar voices echoing in the hallways. Echos of my past...of what shaped the person I am.
I returned from this trip feeling neither satisfied or unsatisfied. It was necessary, I believe, to reassure me that I did have a past. However, it was just that...my past.
My future is now my main concern. I no longer feel that emptiness of having left Limon too soon. I realize that I took what I needed and should move on. Perhaps this thought has given me some necessary peace of mind. Another step towards clarifying my thoughts and drawing a better picture of what my goals are.
Now, just focus a little more...
Two nights ago, my family had our first Chinese food of 2009 and therefore our first fortune cookies of 2009. I guess we all felt that these should start our year off and give us a hint at what was to come. Just sort of a fun thought. However, fortune cookies never cease to surprise and amuse! Here are the four fortunes that we got in our cookies:
"The surest path to success is to envision that you cannot fail."
Ah, a gem of wisdom.
"The skills you have gathered will one day come in handy."
Nice last thought to end 2008.
"Set high goals."
Short and sweet.
Ooh, here is the clincher!
"About time I got out of that cookie."
:-P
