Saturday, August 19, 2006

no good reason for slightly emotional.

Yesterday evening I was one of the poor suckers traveling north that I used to feel sorry for when I'd see them stuck in traffic as I traveled south. Leaving for Bemidji, I got as far as my grandparents' house where I stayed overnight, then left early this morning to drive the other half of the way in order to work at the gallery one last time before clearing out my studio.

It ended up being a fairly emotional drive this morning as I alternated between singing along with Carly Simon and finding myself in fits of tears as I reminisced over thoughts of my old place that I sold and moved out of nearly a year ago. What the hell? Where did that come from?

And I began to realize that all this moving and doing and starting over has been nothing but a whole lot of cotton wadding that's kept me separated from the things that have brought me the most heartache. The closer I got to Bemidji, the more still-raw wounds were revealed.

So I cried.

I cried because I'm sad that I no longer have the house I built with my own hands and all the land that surrounded it. I cried because, even if I would have had the money to keep it, it is not the place where I would have been able to fulfill the rest of my life goals. I cried just because. Because I miss it out there and now there is no turning back...even though "back" is not where I want to go. I cried for all the things that I've lost and for all the things that have changed. I cried because I couldn't help myself. Maybe I cried because last night my grandma asked me if I missed my old place in Becida and I said: "You know how, if you're lucky, you find the one place in the world where your spirit feels at home? That's what that place was to me. Yes, I miss it." I suppose it's possible that all these tears are just a matter of being tired. Distant emotions bubble to the surface.

As I finally made it into Bemidji, I was amazed by the amount of green and blue-sparkle from the lake and I simultaneously thought: "This place is beautiful." and "This place makes me feel trapped." I am a living contradiction and a constant source of confusion to myself as I touch the surface of more emotions than any human being should sanely attempt. In the end I overwhelm myself in a state of multi-dimensionalism--something that I consider to be both a gift and a burden--depending on my ability to cope on any given day.

It's been a long time since I've been a visitor in my own hometown. And I must say that moving away has felt like the most natural thing I've ever done. I grew up here, moved away, traveled extensively, then came back. And now, even though I've lived here for the past 9 years, I have never really mourned the idea of leaving Bemidji...at least not like I did when I left my old place in the country. Since then, it has been a series of removals. And now that I'm cleaning out my studio, this is the final one.

My words feel disjointed. I feel disjointed.

Today I've gone through a whole range of emotions while running errands and into people I know. I wiped tears away while driving down Main Street and was alternately sad and relieved that I no longer live here.

When feeling the sadness, I remind myself that crying is a good sign because it means a place was important. Tears are a sign that a place was good.

Bemidji was good. Becida was better. Minneapolis is where I belong right now.

Life feels like a series of waves. And today the tide is high.

9 comments:

Anonymous said...

Oh jessie! I can relate so much with this post...especially the last couple of days. I have never lived in one place longer than 5 years at one time...1-2 is usually average...but 5 years was more than enough to spin my heart into every measure of the home I'm longing for lately. It must be that much more difficult to leave a place that you built yourself. I know that my parents went through a couple of those moves. But one thing I will never regret is the shaping each new place has formed in my life, and the people around me. And I have found that our life legends can lead us back to these former places we've known...life is so full..
But I'm sorry that you are having to go through these heartches..leaving is never easy.

Belle said...

Hi Jessie,

Having lived in one place most of the time I have not felt what you feel but do know that time helps with most trials.

All the best to you

bee said...

jessie,

my heart aches with you right now. i understand COMPLETELY where you are coming from, and i just want to send you some sisterly love if you need it.

email me if you want to...if you have time and spsce to. my thoughts are most definitely with you tonight.
booyaka_bee@hotmail.com

Anonymous said...

oh jessie, jessie, jessie...

i too know where you are coming from...i moved out here for school, and i moved from a place that i loved so much and felt so "at-home" there (blue ridge mountains of NC)... i try to remember that i am in this new place for a reason and i'll get back "home" one day....hugs to you, jessie, i feel for you...i'm hoping you find that new sense of home in your new surroundings soon...(i sent you an email also).

Kristine said...

Crying right now seems so necessary. I mean, while you have had so much goodness in your life lately, there is still a need to mourn that which is no longer there. My heart goes out to you. Moving is one of the top five biggest life stresses and then for you to leave a house you built, the feelings involved must be complex, to say the least.
Sending caring thoughts your way...

Anonymous said...

Keep feeling the feelings (whatever they may be) and riding the waves! Trust that you are just where you need to be right now. All will be well. Be gentle with yourself and take good care.

Loralee Choate said...

No need to worry about feeling sad. Saying goodbye to things is tough and deserves some emotional release. It just shows how much you cared about it in the first place.

HUG

Tammy Brierly said...

Crying lets it out and helps you move forward :)

Sending kleenex and hugs!

Colorsonmymind said...

I had very similar conflicting emotions when my stepdad sold the house he and my mother had built in the small town I grew up in. Now there is no where there for me to call home.

Hus