Monday November 10, 2003: the space between worlds
[written Friday night]
Yet again, I have let a month go by without writing.
Oops.
Well, I've been writing, just not here. I still make regular posts to my LJ and to my blog, but I haven't had the time to really get into the kind of writing I'm doing here.
AS I write this, I'm sitting in a hotel room in Cannon Beach, Oregon, drinking peppermint tea. I came down here to get away for the weekend and to write and do art, and let the ocean take care of some knots in my soul.
I started out early yesterday morning. Through a number of entirely embarrassing mishaps (including, yes, getting pulled over for doing 70 in a 60 zone!) I spent longer getting down to Portland than I otherwise would have, hitting it just before 10.
Which was actually not bad, because I was going to be seeing D for the first time in six years, and he wasn't able to get away from work till 10.
I parked down by Powell's, and went in to browse the shelves. D met me in the science fiction section. D has mellowed a bit as he's gotten older, as have I, and we sat and drank coffee in the coffee shop at Powell's and talked about what was going on in our lives, and what had changed and what had stayed the same.
I remember D as one of the people who got me through my last year of college, who was a silent support as my life fell apart and I put it back together. He was my friend at a time where I wasn't sure I could trust myself, much less anyone else, and I'm not sure if he didn't notice the strangenesses about me or just chose to overlook them.
The thing I remember most about him is walking with him through the snow, during that last bitter winter, and feeling as if we were talking volumes without saying the first word. It's one of those odd scenes that shouldn't mean anything and yet stays in my mind as my first association with his name. He had a long overcoat and a scarf that he wore with an effortlessness of style that I admired and never quite managed to emulate.
It was really excellently good to see him. I may need to swing down there this December, go to the Sunday Market, and have lunch with him and his wife.
After coffee, I got back onto the road, and headed towards the coast. I got there at about 1:45, which was too early to check in at my hotel, so I headed down to Tillamook for some cheese. Alas, I was thwarted; there were no cheese curds! Much gnashing of teeth ensued. Then I got over it and came back up.
I checked in, had dinner, and then retired to my room to write. I wrote out a scene for gaming that had been building in my head all day, which I'm not sure I'll ever manage to share with anyone in its current form-some of the particulars about the scene are things I made up wholesale because they things we haven't gotten to yet; this scene would probably take place one or two gaming sessions from now. Also, I don't know if I've gotten the antagonist's attitude and words right.
And then, I took a long bath, and came in and started working on my novel.
Yes, I'm writing a novel for NaNoWriMo; it's a YA fantasy novel that retells the story of Persephone as I would have liked to see it written. I wrote 5000 words last night, which brings me to 14k words. I'm hoping to get between 5 and 10 thousand done tonight, which would put me close to the halfway mark and probably get me another two and a half chapters in.
I brought my laptop down with me so I could do this, and so far it's working well-there's a fire in the fireplace, peppermint tea on the table next to me, and I'm sitting with the laptop on my lap and thinking about going for a walk on the beach in a little bit.
Ah, bliss, thy name is getting away for the weekend.
So where else have I been?
Work got busy for a little while there, so I was doing nothing but working, exercising, and sleeping for a week or two. I keep on pushing myself on the running-I'm now running three miles as my normal workout, which is a comfortable distance that I can complete in a half hour, and I think I'll stay here for a while. My cardiovascular conditioning has come a long way recently; when I finish my run I'm breathing hard but not out of breath, my heart beating strongly but not over-rapidly. My cardio system tells me, "We could go forever and ever, just like this" as my legs tell me that "forever and ever" is definitely not an option. The muscles in my legs are slower to show improvements than my cardio system, it seems.
I got orthotics for my feet, so my plantar fascitis isn't bothering me nearly as much as it was. I also have a contraption I like to call The Boot, which is a night splint that holds my foot in a flexed position all night. The thing is damned uncomfortable, and it took me two weeks to learn how to sleep in it, but eventually sleep prevailed. I do keep taking it off in my sleep and dropping it over the side of the bed, though.
At least the it's not making my toes numb any more.
[time for the beach! More later.]
[written Saturday during the day]
Today, so far, I've walked on the beach, walked around downtown Cannon Beach, and gone up to Seaside briefly. The air here has been so cold and dry recently that the skin on my knuckles actually cracked and bled from no more than the normal daily stresses it goes through. I went to Seaside to go to an actual drug store that had some stuff I could put on my hands to make them feel better. I also stopped by the outlet mall up there, and picked up a pair of jeans that fit me like a charm (*you* try finding jeans when you have a 29.5" inseam)…which were, of all things, a size 12.
Yes, it's a big size 12, and the jeans are stretch jeans, but a year ago I was wearing size 22 jeans. I'm pleased with myself.
And now I've come back and I've sat down with the laptop to write before dinner. After dinner, I'll write some more, then I'll go walk on the beach a little after it gets dark. This morning's long walk on the beach brought a great measure of peace to me, and I've been doing some thinking as I've been running about today about things. There are a few things I have almost settled in my heart, and I think going out one more time tonight will help cement them.
The story of why I had things to settle, well, that's not entirely my story to tell. I'm not going to talk about specifics very much, because I can't find words for it that don't either seem wrong or diminish it in some way.
I've been having a "things are about to start happening" feeling for a while now-about three weeks, as a matter of fact. I know this feeling, it's usually the only warning that I have that something in my life's about to change. About a week out from Samhain, the feeling got especially strong, and I was clueless as to why. I booked myself a weekend in Cannon Beach, because if it kept unabated for that long, I was going to need to take some time in a place away from everything in order to sit down and really figure out what was going on.
On Samhain (or, actually, on All Soul's Day) I found out what it was. It's a good thing, but I'm not ready to talk about it in public yet. Eventually.
[written on Saturday night]
Tonight, I went walking on the beach.
Tonight, I participated in a ritual.
I walked out of my hotel to the beach, and went across the board laid on the little stream that separates the pavement from the beach. I stopped for a moment, closed my eyes, grounded and centered. And then I began to walk towards the ocean.
It was low tide, the moon behind me a crescent, the clouds blowing across it. There was something odd about it, but I didn't pay much attention. As I walked down toward the ocean across sand that was at first loose and then harder packed, I thought, that's odd, I could have sworn the moon was supposed to be full tonight...
I walked away from civilization and towards the ocean.
It was a long walk. The wind pushed at my back, encouraging me onward. The sound of the waves was barely audible from the edge of the beach, the tide was so low. The sand spread away from me on all sides, featureless and dark.
My walk took on a dreamlike consistency. I couldn't tell whether or not I was actually in motion. I supposed that I must be, as the sound of the waves was getting gradually louder, but as the sky darkened and the stars one by one came out, I found myself not so much walking as being carried by the wind towards the water.
I came to the stream I'd crossed before, which curved to the south on its way to the ocean. I splashed across and kept going.
It seemed that the stream was the demarcation between the world and Somewhere Else. I was suddenly plunged into the world, stripped of my barriers, and I think I cried out as I suddenly saw everything, saw every star wheeling above me, saw each dark wave and bright spray as it approached me.
Through all this I kept moving. I came to the place where the shine of water warned me that beyond here the waves held sway, and stopped. The wind behind me calmed and then shoved. I took two involuntary steps forward, and then a few more. Was I supposed to walk into the ocean?
The wind calmed, and the ocean extended itself to greet me, unfurling a lazy wave my direction. It hissed around my boots and I crouched to touch the water. The wave retreated, and I lifted my hand to my mouth. The sea water tasted like tears.
I found that the longer I stayed, the better I was becoming at coping with the strange place I'd found myself. A satellite crossed the sky from north to south, and I watched it pass beyond the horizon. I kept walking.
After a little while, I found a spot that seemed like it would be a good place to stand. And I looked out into the water, and then I closed my eyes.
I made confession to the ocean. I told it about my joys and my fears, my anger and my grief, my desires and frustrations. I emptied myself into the sea.
The wind whipped around me, pulling my hair, and I began to see things clearly. The knot of things I've been carrying beneath my breastbone loosened.
You have been too long a mirror. Being a mirror or a lens is safe, because you're never the one who loves more, you're never the one who feels more, and that means you always have the upper hand. But you're not a mirror, underneath, you're not the image that other people have made you into. Some people look into you and want to see themselves magnified.
It is time to stop being a mirror. You have a wellspring of passion in you sufficient to sustain anyone for years; it is long past time that you tapped it. You will disappoint some people and surprise others, but you need to become who you are, at last. You've done a lot of work, but you haven't made the final step yet. It's now the right time for that. Jump. No promises what will happen, but you must jump.
That and so much more inarticulate knowledge flowed into me. I stood and stared out into the ocean; a pair of tears rolled down my cheeks.
I spent a long time walking in that place that was not precisely a place. When I was dismissed, I jumped back across the stream and spent another long time walking on the hard-packed sand.
The moon was getting bigger. At first, I thought it was just that my eyes had been blurred by tears, but no, it was definitely getting bigger. And there was enough of it that it should have been gibbous, but it looked instead like there had been a bite taken out of it.
I had been walking in the space between worlds during a lunar eclipse.
I sang, a little, as I walked, coming back past Haystack Rock and making my way slowly, reluctantly, towards civilization. A little dog barked excitedly at me, "Hi! Hi! Helllllllo! Who are you? Who are you? Who? Who?" It rocketed towards me out of the dark, yipping joyfully, made a circle around me, sniffed my leg, and then ran back, barking, "It's okay, boss, it's just a girl! A girl! She's harmless, boss! All clear, boss!"
The sand towards the edge of the beach became softer, harder to walk on. I walked slowly, slowly towards the demarcation between the beach and the town. I came to the stream and, without looking back, I took a deep breath and crossed it.
I walked back to my hotel, stomping my shoes to shake the sand off. Two women were walking five tiny spaniels, and I giggled at the sight. And I came back inside, and I ate a little and drank a little water, and even now I feel the edges of what happened tonight around me.
And the knot I had been carrying with me is gone, dissolved away.
[written Monday]
It's lovely when coming home is just as nice as going away. I climbed into my car about 8:45 and made my way up the coast, taking a right at Astoria and then driving north on I-5 to gaming. I got into Puyallup about 12:15, got lost briefly, and then navigated by feel towards the house.
After gaming and lovely snuggling, I zipped home and petted the cats and unpacked, doing all the things that you do after you come home.
I had a really incredible time, and I'm glad I went. And I'm glad to be home, in the thick of things once more.
Pictures from the weekend:
I was stopped and bored, so I was playing with the camera.
self-portrait, with coffee
crows at the stream's edge
the long view of the beach
a scenic overlook, whee!
Haystack Rock, from relatively close
Another scenic overlook
Me, above the beach
I like the little person running away.
These are larger, but they're worth it.
A half a sand dollar.
A crab shell on its back.
And my favorite of the pictures I took this weekend--the claw of a crab.
Random pictures from before the weekend:
Instructions for opening a box
you can't see me behind this wastebasket!
kitten inna box!
Yet again, I have let a month go by without writing.
Oops.
Well, I've been writing, just not here. I still make regular posts to my LJ and to my blog, but I haven't had the time to really get into the kind of writing I'm doing here.
AS I write this, I'm sitting in a hotel room in Cannon Beach, Oregon, drinking peppermint tea. I came down here to get away for the weekend and to write and do art, and let the ocean take care of some knots in my soul.
I started out early yesterday morning. Through a number of entirely embarrassing mishaps (including, yes, getting pulled over for doing 70 in a 60 zone!) I spent longer getting down to Portland than I otherwise would have, hitting it just before 10.
Which was actually not bad, because I was going to be seeing D for the first time in six years, and he wasn't able to get away from work till 10.
I parked down by Powell's, and went in to browse the shelves. D met me in the science fiction section. D has mellowed a bit as he's gotten older, as have I, and we sat and drank coffee in the coffee shop at Powell's and talked about what was going on in our lives, and what had changed and what had stayed the same.
I remember D as one of the people who got me through my last year of college, who was a silent support as my life fell apart and I put it back together. He was my friend at a time where I wasn't sure I could trust myself, much less anyone else, and I'm not sure if he didn't notice the strangenesses about me or just chose to overlook them.
The thing I remember most about him is walking with him through the snow, during that last bitter winter, and feeling as if we were talking volumes without saying the first word. It's one of those odd scenes that shouldn't mean anything and yet stays in my mind as my first association with his name. He had a long overcoat and a scarf that he wore with an effortlessness of style that I admired and never quite managed to emulate.
It was really excellently good to see him. I may need to swing down there this December, go to the Sunday Market, and have lunch with him and his wife.
After coffee, I got back onto the road, and headed towards the coast. I got there at about 1:45, which was too early to check in at my hotel, so I headed down to Tillamook for some cheese. Alas, I was thwarted; there were no cheese curds! Much gnashing of teeth ensued. Then I got over it and came back up.
I checked in, had dinner, and then retired to my room to write. I wrote out a scene for gaming that had been building in my head all day, which I'm not sure I'll ever manage to share with anyone in its current form-some of the particulars about the scene are things I made up wholesale because they things we haven't gotten to yet; this scene would probably take place one or two gaming sessions from now. Also, I don't know if I've gotten the antagonist's attitude and words right.
And then, I took a long bath, and came in and started working on my novel.
Yes, I'm writing a novel for NaNoWriMo; it's a YA fantasy novel that retells the story of Persephone as I would have liked to see it written. I wrote 5000 words last night, which brings me to 14k words. I'm hoping to get between 5 and 10 thousand done tonight, which would put me close to the halfway mark and probably get me another two and a half chapters in.
I brought my laptop down with me so I could do this, and so far it's working well-there's a fire in the fireplace, peppermint tea on the table next to me, and I'm sitting with the laptop on my lap and thinking about going for a walk on the beach in a little bit.
Ah, bliss, thy name is getting away for the weekend.
So where else have I been?
Work got busy for a little while there, so I was doing nothing but working, exercising, and sleeping for a week or two. I keep on pushing myself on the running-I'm now running three miles as my normal workout, which is a comfortable distance that I can complete in a half hour, and I think I'll stay here for a while. My cardiovascular conditioning has come a long way recently; when I finish my run I'm breathing hard but not out of breath, my heart beating strongly but not over-rapidly. My cardio system tells me, "We could go forever and ever, just like this" as my legs tell me that "forever and ever" is definitely not an option. The muscles in my legs are slower to show improvements than my cardio system, it seems.
I got orthotics for my feet, so my plantar fascitis isn't bothering me nearly as much as it was. I also have a contraption I like to call The Boot, which is a night splint that holds my foot in a flexed position all night. The thing is damned uncomfortable, and it took me two weeks to learn how to sleep in it, but eventually sleep prevailed. I do keep taking it off in my sleep and dropping it over the side of the bed, though.
At least the it's not making my toes numb any more.
[time for the beach! More later.]
[written Saturday during the day]
Today, so far, I've walked on the beach, walked around downtown Cannon Beach, and gone up to Seaside briefly. The air here has been so cold and dry recently that the skin on my knuckles actually cracked and bled from no more than the normal daily stresses it goes through. I went to Seaside to go to an actual drug store that had some stuff I could put on my hands to make them feel better. I also stopped by the outlet mall up there, and picked up a pair of jeans that fit me like a charm (*you* try finding jeans when you have a 29.5" inseam)…which were, of all things, a size 12.
Yes, it's a big size 12, and the jeans are stretch jeans, but a year ago I was wearing size 22 jeans. I'm pleased with myself.
And now I've come back and I've sat down with the laptop to write before dinner. After dinner, I'll write some more, then I'll go walk on the beach a little after it gets dark. This morning's long walk on the beach brought a great measure of peace to me, and I've been doing some thinking as I've been running about today about things. There are a few things I have almost settled in my heart, and I think going out one more time tonight will help cement them.
The story of why I had things to settle, well, that's not entirely my story to tell. I'm not going to talk about specifics very much, because I can't find words for it that don't either seem wrong or diminish it in some way.
I've been having a "things are about to start happening" feeling for a while now-about three weeks, as a matter of fact. I know this feeling, it's usually the only warning that I have that something in my life's about to change. About a week out from Samhain, the feeling got especially strong, and I was clueless as to why. I booked myself a weekend in Cannon Beach, because if it kept unabated for that long, I was going to need to take some time in a place away from everything in order to sit down and really figure out what was going on.
On Samhain (or, actually, on All Soul's Day) I found out what it was. It's a good thing, but I'm not ready to talk about it in public yet. Eventually.
[written on Saturday night]
Tonight, I went walking on the beach.
Tonight, I participated in a ritual.
I walked out of my hotel to the beach, and went across the board laid on the little stream that separates the pavement from the beach. I stopped for a moment, closed my eyes, grounded and centered. And then I began to walk towards the ocean.
It was low tide, the moon behind me a crescent, the clouds blowing across it. There was something odd about it, but I didn't pay much attention. As I walked down toward the ocean across sand that was at first loose and then harder packed, I thought, that's odd, I could have sworn the moon was supposed to be full tonight...
I walked away from civilization and towards the ocean.
It was a long walk. The wind pushed at my back, encouraging me onward. The sound of the waves was barely audible from the edge of the beach, the tide was so low. The sand spread away from me on all sides, featureless and dark.
My walk took on a dreamlike consistency. I couldn't tell whether or not I was actually in motion. I supposed that I must be, as the sound of the waves was getting gradually louder, but as the sky darkened and the stars one by one came out, I found myself not so much walking as being carried by the wind towards the water.
I came to the stream I'd crossed before, which curved to the south on its way to the ocean. I splashed across and kept going.
It seemed that the stream was the demarcation between the world and Somewhere Else. I was suddenly plunged into the world, stripped of my barriers, and I think I cried out as I suddenly saw everything, saw every star wheeling above me, saw each dark wave and bright spray as it approached me.
Through all this I kept moving. I came to the place where the shine of water warned me that beyond here the waves held sway, and stopped. The wind behind me calmed and then shoved. I took two involuntary steps forward, and then a few more. Was I supposed to walk into the ocean?
The wind calmed, and the ocean extended itself to greet me, unfurling a lazy wave my direction. It hissed around my boots and I crouched to touch the water. The wave retreated, and I lifted my hand to my mouth. The sea water tasted like tears.
I found that the longer I stayed, the better I was becoming at coping with the strange place I'd found myself. A satellite crossed the sky from north to south, and I watched it pass beyond the horizon. I kept walking.
After a little while, I found a spot that seemed like it would be a good place to stand. And I looked out into the water, and then I closed my eyes.
I made confession to the ocean. I told it about my joys and my fears, my anger and my grief, my desires and frustrations. I emptied myself into the sea.
The wind whipped around me, pulling my hair, and I began to see things clearly. The knot of things I've been carrying beneath my breastbone loosened.
You have been too long a mirror. Being a mirror or a lens is safe, because you're never the one who loves more, you're never the one who feels more, and that means you always have the upper hand. But you're not a mirror, underneath, you're not the image that other people have made you into. Some people look into you and want to see themselves magnified.
It is time to stop being a mirror. You have a wellspring of passion in you sufficient to sustain anyone for years; it is long past time that you tapped it. You will disappoint some people and surprise others, but you need to become who you are, at last. You've done a lot of work, but you haven't made the final step yet. It's now the right time for that. Jump. No promises what will happen, but you must jump.
That and so much more inarticulate knowledge flowed into me. I stood and stared out into the ocean; a pair of tears rolled down my cheeks.
I spent a long time walking in that place that was not precisely a place. When I was dismissed, I jumped back across the stream and spent another long time walking on the hard-packed sand.
The moon was getting bigger. At first, I thought it was just that my eyes had been blurred by tears, but no, it was definitely getting bigger. And there was enough of it that it should have been gibbous, but it looked instead like there had been a bite taken out of it.
I had been walking in the space between worlds during a lunar eclipse.
I sang, a little, as I walked, coming back past Haystack Rock and making my way slowly, reluctantly, towards civilization. A little dog barked excitedly at me, "Hi! Hi! Helllllllo! Who are you? Who are you? Who? Who?" It rocketed towards me out of the dark, yipping joyfully, made a circle around me, sniffed my leg, and then ran back, barking, "It's okay, boss, it's just a girl! A girl! She's harmless, boss! All clear, boss!"
The sand towards the edge of the beach became softer, harder to walk on. I walked slowly, slowly towards the demarcation between the beach and the town. I came to the stream and, without looking back, I took a deep breath and crossed it.
I walked back to my hotel, stomping my shoes to shake the sand off. Two women were walking five tiny spaniels, and I giggled at the sight. And I came back inside, and I ate a little and drank a little water, and even now I feel the edges of what happened tonight around me.
And the knot I had been carrying with me is gone, dissolved away.
[written Monday]
It's lovely when coming home is just as nice as going away. I climbed into my car about 8:45 and made my way up the coast, taking a right at Astoria and then driving north on I-5 to gaming. I got into Puyallup about 12:15, got lost briefly, and then navigated by feel towards the house.
After gaming and lovely snuggling, I zipped home and petted the cats and unpacked, doing all the things that you do after you come home.
I had a really incredible time, and I'm glad I went. And I'm glad to be home, in the thick of things once more.
Pictures from the weekend:
I was stopped and bored, so I was playing with the camera.
self-portrait, with coffee
crows at the stream's edge
the long view of the beach
a scenic overlook, whee!
Haystack Rock, from relatively close
Another scenic overlook
Me, above the beach
I like the little person running away.
These are larger, but they're worth it.
A half a sand dollar.
A crab shell on its back.
And my favorite of the pictures I took this weekend--the claw of a crab.
Random pictures from before the weekend:
Instructions for opening a box
you can't see me behind this wastebasket!
kitten inna box!
){kind=link}
){kind=link}
){kind=link}
){kind=link}
){kind=link}
){kind=link}
){kind=link}
){kind=link}
){kind=link}
){kind=link}
){kind=link}
){kind=link}