a moment’s pause

so, this is the last time i take the journey south, bound for dublin, on an outbound ticket. next time it’ll be a return.
tomorrow i’ll back up over the border in a van to move all my worldly possessions.

100 miles seems very far today. but as i stood on the platform at holywood with my suitcase and looked out over the lough, feeling my throat choke up and my eyes prick at the corners, i realised i felt relief mixed with the anxiety and sadness of such a significant day. relief at having a different view in the future. of how the past 4 years (almost) have been against this backdrop with so much sadness and loss. each time i have looked out over the water, that was in years before shared and home, having then changed irrevocably… each time looking out over the water acted as a reminder of things i’d rather forget.

i’m moving so that i have a different view. a life less scarred by memories. the memories i associate with dublin are older. and having been in belfast for 8 years, i have been able to leave much of the past it holds to rest. so that now it feels like a new place. so here i am, on a train, leaving the past behind.

as i sit here on the train as i have done so many times in recent months, and as i hold back tears, all i can say with conviction is, i want the future to be different.

::

later….

as the train passed Newry and crossed the border the sun finally appeared, and a feeling of leaving turned to going toward…

tomorrow i will have some, “see you soons” that will catch in my throat. but for now, the view from my parentals’ balcony is of hills and trees exploding in spring green and there’s dinner on the stove. so i’ll be thankful. for tomorrow will be a long day with a 200 mile round trip in the van and moving as much stuff as it’ll take and there won’t be time to pause and take in the beauty. and then a weekend of unpacking awaits.

::

the writer’s almanac for today tells me it’s annie dillard’s birthday. which is worth a pause in itself in which to feel good about the world. it’s a better place for her having been in it.

also from the almanac, Leisure, by William Henry Davies. which i haven’t read in years. hard to argue with…

What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.
No time to stand beneath the boughs
And stare as long as sheep or cows.
No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.
No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night.
No time to turn at Beauty’s glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance.
No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began.
A poor life this if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

::

as an old Irish saying goes,
not one of us is promised tomorrow.

LB

au revoir, beloveds

with tomorrow night as my last night sleeping north of the border, tonight marked my last night, for a while at least, at the tuesday table.

i am so grateful, and always will be, for the deep connection i have forged with the folks around that table. those who challenge me in a way i have never been challenged anywhere else. because, as i said to them tonight, these distinct voices around the room, i carry in my mind like a prism. each one has a unique take on the world and together their voices make for harmony.
it has been a real gift to have their individual and collective presence in my life. and i realise now just how much i will miss them, their constancy. miss the reflecting i get to do each week as i replay our conversations and look at the scribbles in my notebook and feel them adding shape and texture and colour to the themes that unfold.

i don’t think any of them know just how much influence they have had on me over the years. i realised too tonight that the sharing of a journey together has been so valuable, so important to me, in a way i don’t yet fully see. we have shared memory and that strikes deep for me. i value it more highly than i can find adequate words for. and i’m not even sure why that is so important. perhaps… perhaps because they have stayed true as much as they have stayed constant. they have my trust.

as i move back to the town that was home for many years to connect with my biological and blended family and do the work of allowing myself to be a part of that just as i am, i know i have my family of choice back here. a table to come back to. and wherever team fury or i am in the world, they will always be family to me.

so, with deep deep love and immense gratitude for getting me to here, for making tuesday the new sunday and for always holding on,
it is with a smile and with some tears, i finally hear myself saying, this really is it. i’m moving.

thanks family.
i’ll be back soon.

c,xo

from a tea break

it’s all about interesting conversations at the moment. well, that’s one of the bigger themes.
the day-to-day this week is all about emptying shelves and packing my life up into boxes but that’s dull as dishwater in my book. the unpacking and subsequent turning of a blank magnolia slate of an apartment into a suitably me-zone is the only carrot to tempt me to keep up the pace. still, at least i’m not having to do this relocation while my heart is in free fall, like the move to here last May. if i needed proof that there’s some strength in me, that i survived that fucking horrible month is a contender. but thankfully that is the past and today is today and if i find myself bored rather than weeping while i pack, then i know i’m doing better.

so. anyways. interesting conversations… oh. yes:

my dear brother highly recommended this interview from ffm 09. his praise was not unwarranted. not that it ever is. so i knew whatever this turned out to be it’d be good.
cornel west talks with lupe fiasco. i’d never heard of mr fiasco but this conversation contains some great stuff from both of them. it’s been running in the backround as i pack to stave off the boredom and on each listen i hear something new.

i get to go to tuesday group tonight. which is cause for joy and gratitude.

LB