January 14, 2013 – Two Faced Gemini and Fears
Two months goes by in a breath. As I shoulder my bags and check my room one last time to make sure I haven’t forgotten anything my Gemini dual nature exerts itself. I want both sides of the coin. I don’t want to leave this Oregonian house and I want to flee the pain the weather drives into my wrists and feet. If my body didn’t protest I’d probably stay forever. I’ve been at peace here. I’ve liked the simplicity of this life. I’m sad to be going and I’m relieved. My friend rides the bus with me to her stop, we say “see ya later,” and then I’m on my own to get to the Greyhound station. I’m traveling, I am vagabond, I am free again.
I’m pleased and I’m distraught. I’m heading to Portland for the night to make my tomorrow’s flight easier to get to with 110 miles cut out from between me and the airport. I’ve booked a bed in a hostel dorm room and made a list of things to do in Portland if I have the time for it. I know the routine.
The bus is halfway to Portland when I realize I forgot to say goodbye to the Cat. I miss her bossiness already, I miss the kitchen, I miss my room, I miss my office with its view, I miss the backyard spiders. And yet, as I miss these things I push them away from me and stuff them into a treasure memory box in my mind. They’ll always be there to pull out again and look at. My life is an untethered one and I like it that way. Besides, nearly every place has something to miss. I don’t hold on to the missing. I can’t. I don’t want to.
While I’m good at leaving places behind me, each transition chips a small disruptive fissure in my emotional makeup and I battle with myself to either caulk in the crack or to chisel out more. I’m a homebody and I’m a free spirit. I need routine and I can’t abide rutted procedure. I’m emotionally attached and I’m cold as ice.
This time though, I’m having a hard time squeezing out the caulk. I brood as the bus rolls on.
Snap out of it, I say.
I will, I reply. Just give me a good night’s sleep and I’ll be good as new. But I didn’t want to leave… except for the pain.
It’s the except you live with.
You know what your real problem is, don’t you?
I can’t argue against that. I’m right. I am scared. I’m afraid of losing my independence. Of being stuck. I’m frightened that money really does create freedom and I’m almost out. I’m worried of accidently slipping back into a “normal” life (and how could I live with myself then?). I’m scared of needing. I’m afraid of the obligations that come with accepting kindness.
Can a thank you really ever be enough? Is there always an unequal balance between giving and receiving?
I think back to my friend’s and my conversations regarding Gift Theory and realize I still don’t know. But I do know that it’s easier (at least for me) to be in the Giver’s Seat.
Yeah, I’m scared alright.
But you’ll be okay. Trust me.
Ha. Like you know what you’re doing.
We’ll figure it out together.
We’re the same person.
Sure I’m scared. I’m heading into unknown territory and I don’t know if I’ve packed the right clothes. I’ve arrived at the final phase of this year’s adventure, and have an unknown future after that. But before I get there I’ve got a last minute trip to Colorado and the holidays to keep me feeling the air of freedom under my wings and the vertiginous world beneath me.
Fear. What is fear? Fear is my friend. It’s the force that propels me forward, keeps me trying new things, sends me out into the world and keeps me from being confined, cooped up, fenced in, enclosed, locked away. I may be Gemini. I may be two sided and contradictory. But one thing I know for sure, I will never trade my freedom in for any kind of cage.