Friday, April 24, 2009

I sit here, hunched over this patio table and high above the street below, watching the happenings below with a halfhearted interest. It’s 12:21am on Friday night (technically, Saturday morning) in Cairns, Queensland, Australia, and my heart is restless.

A few people online try to distract me from my brief bout with introspection from thousands of miles away.

As I sit, staring vacantly down towards the pavement, I see 5 drunken kids swaggering towards the opposite side of the street, heading home into the dark, cool night. I catch myself thinking that I hope they know which way to look as they walk into traffic.

I’m alone on this balcony and I like it. There are people yelling, there is music blaring, and MW is less than 10 feet away from me, inside our hotel room.

Somehow, miraculously, I have managed to escape into my own cocoon, amongst this madness.

I wonder at our world - what does it all mean?

I have strong beliefs as to why I am here, what my purpose is, and the overarching ideas of my spirituality, but as I stare humanity in the face this early Saturday morning, I wonder what it is that I even see.

I’m tired of relationships; I’m tired of trying to read into situations and events. I am exhausted from analysis; I wish for nothing more but straightforward people with love in their hearts.

I wish I was that type of person. While I'm wishing, I wish that I could just BE. And not think so damn much.

I’d be lying if I said that relationships were not work for me, for they utterly exhaust me. (Yes, yes, they exhaust you, too!) I fatigue myself with incessant considerations that are irrelevant and unimportant. And then, somehow, I manage to halfway offend a friend by not being observant about behaviours surrounding me.

Where is my balance? My scale?

There are days that I think I could live here forever, and nights that I wish nothing more than to be at home. But where is my home? I am nothing more than a vagabond, blowing around as leaves in the wind.

I thank you in advance for assuring me that my home is Orlando, or Atlanta, or wherever my heart is, but the reality is that I feel

homeless.

A friend of mine once told me that he never really felt at home in Orlando, in the multiple years he has resided there. I never knew what he meant until now.

Except, he’s considerably more lucky, because he has a place that he remembers as home.

My memory is far to faint to recall anything of the sort.

I long for it, I really do.

Some day, I do believe I shall find it again. For now, though, I shall kiss Hope and Love on the cheek and consider myself blessed to be in Australia in my current situation. My heart continues to wail out its song, calling for that home that no longer exists. This song will recreate, redraw, repaint over the coming months or years; and I will then rediscover my safe haven and my peace.

But tonight, I sit, perched in my quiet nest, thinking about tomorrow.

About Me

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I live amongst the dragons and the warriors of the 21st century. I surround myself with both the peasants, the aristocrats; the knights and the maidens. For a long time (now quite in the past), I wove the structure of my life around the mold others saw for me. I've since learned to live for God and myself. Freedom comes and goes as I remember this lesson of mine. But my life is MY life: a series of events and remembering such. And this, this beautiful montage, is why I wake up every morning. God willing.