It’s nice to hear the rain hitting windows.
Do people ever stop feeling like they’re in transition? This is the fifth room I’ve spent more than two weeks living in since last September. In three weeks I’ll be in another place. The moving rate has made furniture seem like an impediment, objects in multiples seem cumbersome, knick-knacks seem overly sentimental. I used to feel so attached to my bed but the changing beds have been barely noticeable to me; sleep is sleep. I see this as a thing with an undetermined end point.
It’s a state of suspension — over and over, what’s around me doesn’t particularly belong to me, nor me to it. Eventually somewhere I’ll come down, I guess, and then I’ll be able to start thinking about things like buying couches and finding a doctor. But I’ll not sure when that will happen or whether there’s anything superior about it, really.
The strangest thing is on the personal end — relationships. I feel no great attachment anywhere, even there it’s transitional. There’s a sort of benign detachment I have with all my friends now, because when you leave them you naturally talk less, and we’ve all been leaving each other in different ways and then cycling back again. Two good friends from college are back in my picture, and in three weeks it’ll be a completely different cast.
The people shift, the scenes shift. Having never been, I went to New York City to interview twice last year, once in the summer and again in the winter. The first time I didn’t want to leave Chicago, the second time that’s all I wanted.
While I may have felt — and continue to feel — a little aimless in my Path-hood, things sneakily change around me and I find myself still moving in a direction. I used to feel lonely and insecure with my close friends all around me; now I see fewer of them less often, but I’ve given other people — housemates, coworkers — a role in my social sphere, however minor, and I haven’t felt lonely or inadequate in ages. Today someone said something ever so slight and I started to take it personally but then made a sort of clinical decision not to be sensitive. And it actually worked.
Maybe it was that essay yesterday, or talking about Tibet over lunch, but I’m kinda channeling the Buddha tonight.