The River

Change. An irrevocable property of existence. What then does one do upon finding everything is changing and there's not a goddamn thing to do about it? It is said that one cannot set foot in the same river twice. The river is always moving. The river is always changing. I suppose, like the river, life is doing the same. Constantly moving. Constantly changing. I guess we have to enjoy our time in each river, in each distilled moment we find ourselves. The difficult part is acknowledging those few great moments and appreciating them while you are there. I hope to do that, to learn that, as soon as I can. And maybe, now that I've thought of it, I'm already there.

Close to the New

Lately, Jim Harrison quantifies "it" for me:

Often, lately, the night is a cold maw
and stars the scattered white teeth of the gods,
which spare none of us. At dawn I have birds,
clearly divine messengers that I don't understand
yet day by day feel the grace of their intentions.

I find myself restless, which would well describe my condition in this life and perhaps even explain the perpetual discontent. I am always looking forward. Always looking for something new rather than enjoying the present. Though, as of late, the present offers little enjoyment. So perhaps this uneasiness is merited and not simply a byproduct of a restless nature. I recently began constructing my family tree. This project began after a sudden and unexplainable interest in my Cherokee ancestry. So far I have not discovered any deep family secrets or any romantic family history. I have discovered some funny names though, like Creasy Lucretia. I already knew my paternal great grandfather's history, how his ancestors rebelled against the Scottish nobility and were forced to flee to Ireland and then to America. It would appear restlessness is quite the family trait. I am ready for a change in both pace and location. I am ready to go back to school. I am ready to live somewhere new. Most of all I am ready for the journey. To move. I have romantic ideas of my trek across the States to the Northwest, where I have all but signed off on going to school. I feel my heart is already there, already belongs there in some new place full of giants. I have always been fascinated by giants. Not giants as in very large humans but as in big nature and the nature of living and being in a certain place. And that is where I think I am going. Perhaps I am foolish to think that something so simple as a piece of land can change my outlook on life. Perhaps it is an illusion I've created to pacify my restless nature and when I get there I will be ready for something else. But no one will ever know unless they just take the ride and see for themselves.