ZACDAQ

My bike has been in Atlanta for a few months. I recently had the opportunity to go up and retrieve my old pal. Yesterday, I set out for a ride in the neighborhood across from ours. The neighborhood is one I used to know very well. Come to find out, it is also a neighborhood that has changed.

Not long after I started pedaling around and seeing a golf course, lake, and many surroundings I have seen many times before, I remembered how much fun I used to have on those very streets, many years ago. Two of my best friends at the time and I used to carry walkie-talkies when we went on our explorations and, for a moment, I could almost see one of them riding ahead of me. Memories can cause hallucinations at times.

It must have been about an hour later when I realized that I had no idea where I was. The streets were no longer familiar. The neighborhood had clearly grown in size since I grew up. Patiently, I kept on pedaling and tried to find the entrance. But, I found myself going in circles.

A back entrance to the neighborhood appeared. Despite its leading to a highway and forcing me to go “around my elbow to get to my thumb,” I took a breath and just went with it. Cars sped past and probably looked at me as if I were insane; you sort of don’t see a lot of bikers on this particular road. With a bit of effort, I made it home.

Since yesterday’s ride, I have been thinking about how great it can feel to be “lost,” if only for a brief amount of time. It is not exactly an easy feat to get lost in the tiny town in which I currently reside, so I take it pretty seriously when it happens. I went into that neighborhood assuming everything would be the same as I left it. I was wrong. But, I still know I was there before. And the new there that is there has its own adventures, I’m sure. My only mistake was not wearing a helmet for this one in particular!

Sometimes, I think we need to let our interpretations of people we have known for a while and even ourselves get lost. I believe we, as human beings, are capable of and often do change. One of my biggest annoyances in life is to be pigeonholed. A quick way to make me feel like a person doesn’t really know me is when he or she acts like I must be the person I used to be. It simply is not true.

Then, there are also times when, I think, we all have to tell a part of ourselves to “Get lost.” Some things and some people need to be allowed to go ahead and peacefully ride off into the sunset. Or just Thelma and Louise that BS! — Strap that sucker into the seat and just push the convertible off the cliff. It’s not always so easy, but we need to let it happen when the time comes.

Maybe I just needed a ride or maybe I’m afraid of getting too set in my ways or maybe even both and more. All I know is, I hope I never forget to allow myself to get Lost from time to time.

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Forget North, South, East, and West!
Today, my compass is inside my chest.

 

 

 

While going through some old books earlier, I came across my Great-Grandmother Elsie’s college yearbook from 1918. It was just the book I was searching for, because I remembered how endearing I found the following line to be: “She is rather inclined to be silent, but it is at these times that her mind is traveling with an ambulance driver ‘somewhere in France.'”

These days, I often think my mind is “somewhere in France.” Maybe even with an ambulance driver. Maybe it’s hereditary. Who knows?

Sometimes I keep to myself. Not forever, but I do. For me, it is always important to balance a life full of being a mouth with being an ear. Both a speaker and a listener. Sometimes I go out, too.

Words are very powerful. Balancing speaking and listening, I believe, is a step in the right direction for discovering the appropriate words. I also think it’s something to work on often. Unless being an ass is the goal!

Over the past couple days, I have twice been reminded how easy it is to speak before thinking and I am so glad I stopped myself before jumping off the cliff both times. I suppose it is wisdom that reminds me to take the high road during times of intense pressure and stress, stops me from blowing up, and leads me to take a deep breath instead. I can be rather impulsive at times, so it can be tough. But, it’s definitely worth the effort.

There is beauty in being quiet and I am glad to know that it is in my blood. There is a loudness in me, too. But, I think finding balance is key.

Anyway, I have somewhere I need to be.

Au revoir. Z

 

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Not a Fairytale

I look into your eyes
And I know now is the time
The white teeth of life’s smile
Sometimes do tarnish with a grime
The two of us played parts
In the story of You and Me
But, a twist in plot has made clear:
It’s not a fairytale, actually
One last kiss for your cheek,
Finding the strength to say “Goodbye”
I look back at a dream we knotted
And manage to untie

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*Just a little something I wrote down for a friend who thought she had something more than what she really did. Keep on going. I think your strength is beautiful. xo Z

Since returning from my trip to NYC, I have found myself feeling lethargic and aimless at times. Not necessarily depressed, but just in a bit of a funk. The feeling has somewhat subsided the past couple of days, but still has left its debris.

Perhaps, I have realized it will be quite a while before I see my friends in the city again. Again, we have to rely on Facetime, calls, texts, etc. to cope. As long as my trip felt, it is never truly long enough. I have even gone so far, in the past, as to stare at walls, attempting to slow down time during a vacation. But, it never truly works. Longing to go back to a vacation is like the hangover to a night of excessive drinking: An inevitable drawback.

Perhaps, I don’t have any immediate trips planned, to dangle in front of my face like a carrot, when the days get long and grueling. The past few days have had their tough parts. I have had to remind myself that I come from a family of very hard workers and sometimes we just have to roll up our sleeves. When it comes to needing a carrot of a trip planned, I do know in my heart that I will get back to my friends eventually and I’m sure I will have another adventure planned soon enough. I definitely found myself thinking about the beach on a few occasions today. Something to plan and dream about…

I have been thinking a lot lately about how important it is to try to be happy where ever we are. I don’t want my time being wasted on believing things will be awesome “When…” and I want the replacement to be things will be awesome “Even when…” I can’t say that I’m there yet, but moments of being happy just where I am do emerge from time to time and these are the moments I cherish the most. More please.

 

The weather in NYC has been lovely for midday wanders the past couple days. I have been going down old, familiar streets and seeing places I used to love to hang out and some I used to love to avoid. There is something so satisfying about knowing there is nowhere to go and no one to see for at least enough time to meander and gather thoughts, on an adventure of sorts. My plans for this evening were canceled and it allowed for extra time to go to Prospect Park with my friend Alyssa and her baby who I call “Girl” out of love. We had a great time and conversation and even realized we had managed to get a little exercise out of the deal.

When I got back to my friend’s apartment, I needed something out of my suitcase. So, I grabbed it and set it on her bed and started searching for what I needed. I found it. When I zipped around the outside of the shell and started to put it back against the wall, I started thinking.

My parents bought me the suitcase when I graduated either high school or college — I can’t remember which and it’s not pertinent here. But, I realized that I have gotten a lot of use out of the gift and I am very grateful. What a great gift to receive! Words cannot express how much I love to travel and I am already planning my next trip out of the country with friends. My passport and my suitcase are two of my favorite possessions because of what they represent.

Clearly, I am one who loves to be on an adventure and I just cannot imagine being any other way. I have certain people in my life who I wish traveled more often, but perhaps leaving home and staying local is a preference I just don’t happen to have in common with them. Which is ok! I am just happy that one of my loves in life rewards me with the capability of seeing so many friends and family members whose faces I wish I could see every day. These faces are definitely worth traveling to.

That being said, I have to run. I have a few faces I need to see tonight and hope will light up when they see mine, too. 

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Here is a little something I jotted down on a napkin during my flight here:

Such a very long way 
Left to go
Places unseen,
Destination unknown
Continuing on a winding,
One-way road
Stopping only for coffee
In get there mode

 

After a busy work day and week, I am very excited to get my things together and gear up for a visit to my dear neighborhood in Brooklyn. I cannot wait to see my friends and just walk around and be thankful to be back. Also, there is definitely a bagel or two in the horizon. It feels like I’m going to a summer home!

These are strange days for me in terms of deciding what “home” means and where it lives. I think the meaning of the word must be somewhat flexible, but I have been trying to figure out if it could be polygamous in nature for some people. Can a person have multiple homes and really love them all? I definitely have love in my heart for more than one location.

Sometimes I feel like such a gypsy and I know that there is definitely a part of me that loves to be on the run, wheeling a suitcase or hauling a large backpack. Having a place to hang your hat also has its appeal.

I don’t know exactly what the future will bring and I don’t know that anyone does. Maybe I’ll figure it all out on a wander around 18th St. and 5th Ave. in a couple days.

Z

A girl popped into my head earlier this week. I remembered her face so well. Even details about what she went on to do after we finished our seasonal work as actors many winters ago were standing by, ready to be accessed in my brain. What was not there was the brunette’s damn name.

I even phoned a friend (via text) and asked for help, but no such luck. My friend didn’t even remember the girl at all. I searched Facebook. I said names aloud, hoping they would stick and make me exclaim, “Oh, yeah! Her name was Bianca!!” Nothing was working. It was not coming.

Finally, the name popped into my head. Such a normal name and nothing like some of the exotic ones that were dancing around. I felt such a sense of relief when her name arrived.

The experience made me think about creativity and how frustrating it can be when it just doesn’t seem to want to come. Writer’s block or lack of inspiration is every creative person’s annoyance. Even more annoying than being unable to remember a name.

I remembered an old journal entry from years ago after a night of wine, chat, and all of that with a dear friend. Here is the entry:

10/09/11

Liz and I had, yet, another fabulous night. We discussed the Muse and I went back, in my mind, to the cat I saw the other day on 8^th St. with a dead rat in its mouth. Growing up, I remember outdoor cats bringing old dead things to my aunt’s doorstep and leaving them on the mat, as if to say, “Thanks for loving me. Keep doing it.” It was like the cat believed my aunt was going to take the dead thing inside and cook it up for supper. Super cute. If only we could bring a dead rat or similar offering to the doorstep of the Muse to ensure it would always open its door and bring the love. Creativity feels like a stream — unseen beginning and ending — until its flow takes a break. I want to be a vessel for creativity to flow through for the rest of my days and I know Liz and I would gladly slaughter any rat to be one. z

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Here in South Georgia, I have been spending a lot of time outside. My friends up north are all freezing their behinds off, while I have my feet up, swinging on the porch swing. But, I don’t feel guilty. Everyone knows I prefer warmer weather.

When wandering or gazing around, I think it is important to look up. Although, looking down also brings occasional treasures. Here is something I jotted down the other day, looking up:

The Tree in Me

Deep in me, 
There stands a tree
With roots gripped tight,
A trunk steady,
Branches extended
And leaves so bright—
In dirt, endures,
Through day and night

 

mr. yellow

oh, how I miss
mr. yellow
it seems he left
after “hello”
streets are now white
bleak, forbidden
if he’d come back
i’d forgive him
oh, how i miss
mr. yellow