this should be a paper about women in antiquity

according to my blog statistics page, the search terms “my life is useless” led to my site – twice. Boy, that’s a feel-good-thought.

I’ve been nagged to write, and a part of me feels the desire to do so, but unfortunately the section of my brain that builds poetry and profound thoughts doesn’t seem to be on board with this plan. In a time so epic as this, shouldn’t my head be filled with thoughts and feelings begging to be penned and typed as a sort-of cathartic release or enlightening exercise in closure? Perhaps, but the only part of me that has ever been predictable is my defiance of the logical and expected.

Perhaps I’m stuck. Not in a sophomoric way, or even in a month-ago-obsession-with-crackers-and-olives-way, rather floating along and moving not but for the gentle tide pushing me slowly toward the shore. The end is coming, as is the beginning. Soon this journey over the ocean will come to an end, taking with it the violent storms and glassy-turquoise water. When my feet hit the sand it will be a new world – climbing trees and hanging from them, balancing a “grown-up” life with a summer of child-like adventures. I can see this sandy beach off in the distance, but no amount of paddling or anchoring will speed or slow my journey. And I’m not sure I want it to.

As I rode the train through the Italian country-side coming home from the beach the other day, I saw rolling hills and fields of yellow flowers glide gently by. Watching myself in the reflection of the window, I realized that I am in a place of true beauty – truest in the sense that it is fleeting. And St. Peter’s square, through which I walk every time I visit my closest friends, with all its fanfare and glory will soon no longer be a part of life as usual. I can’t decide whether I’m scared for the future, or whether it will be a welcome relief, or who I will be in a month or two or three or more.

But that’s nothing new. For the last 4 months, this page has been filled with laughs and tears, with love-songs and hate-songs, with the delicious dualism that peppers my existence even under normal circumstances. A few days ago, I found myself constantly filled with feeling and revelation, in a way that I need less than the fingers on one hand to count how many people actually understand what I mean. Feeling so full of life and understanding and questions and fire that its almost too much to bear (that’s a funny choice of words, isn’t it?) is an essential part of my existence, and it has been very much present in the beginning of this in between. But since then I have been calmed, mellowed for the purpose of self-preservation and functionality, and I find myself meandering through the days and listening intently to the soundtrack.

“You can see only as far as your headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way.” – E.L. Doctorow

yours.Rachel