Meadowlarks

A night of slightly strange coincidence. As I stepped out of my side door around 9:30 for a stroll I pressed play on my iPod. Just as the opening strains of Fleet Foxes' Meadowlarks started in my ears I turned to see a lovely crescent moon; there are moments I wish that I had a recording device for my brain; my lame attempt at a muse blog really can't translate this experience to anyone, but I hope I can hint at it. It wasn't particularly spectacular. But it made me smile widely and start off walking at a brisk pace, glancing over my left shoulder at the moon every few moments like I was walking beside a new lover.

I turned when I could to follow the moon west. The air is warm and not as humid as it has been, and the peaceful lamplit streets here are as fine a lone walk in this city as any. Another strange moment: coming along an empty street my mind drifted to recent events in my life; a package containing my credentials has been sent out today by fast flying machine to the other side of the world, there to be received by foreign men who wish me to teach at their school. I am afraid to leave home, and am afraid to do things, so I am grateful that an intervening weekend will allow me a few days of forgetfulness before I am required to set more wheels in motion. As this thought crossed my mind I had that wash of awareness some call deja vu. I experience it fairly often, and always make a note of it. The relief two days brings me was amplified, extended to infinity as it were between two parallel mirrors. I felt certain for a few seconds that I was experiencing what I hesitantly name synchronicity: I don't actually know what synchronicity is, but I felt like all moments in time were that moment, and I almost dared to ask myself what will become of me, where I will be in the end, and more personal, selfish, and specific questions. I didn't quite get the answers I'm afraid. Well, I may have caught a glimpse of them, but it remains to be seen. Anyway, as I reached the end of the block the spell was broken. I was just walking down a street again. I can't say deja vu has ever quite made me feel this way, but I generally do have a large smile plastered on my face, and this case was no exception.

I walked to a local park that once was a test track for an automotive company. As I passed the fence and mounted the track a whiz of wheels and muscle could be sensed approaching. I girl of about my own age or a bit younger was using the track to roller blade. A bit at a loss I stood still waiting for her to pass, having given up on the internal debate of whether I could get across the track before she collided with me. As she passed we smiled at eachother. And all I could really think was "I will never see her again." Life presented me this one chance to collide with a girl on roller blades, and I have passed on it. I wasn't very regretful, don't take that away from this. But it reinforced the notion that everything only ever happens once. And of course, the great mystery is that I may very well meet the girl again. Perhaps nocturnally at a track, or somewhere else. But it will never be this time again.

The demon I wrestle with myself, the hope that I could one day reclaim what I lost so quickly once, never really is put to rest. Which blows. But I don't really want to kill my demon, frankly. And so he bites me, and I strangle him. It is an unhealthy relationship.