Secret places


Everything is becoming too much lately. Yesterday I felt mentally and physically drained when I left work. It was all I could do to drive home, and I only live 2.3 miles away. I went home and escaped into a few minutes of playing the violin, and some piano. Toward the end of the violin session, I could hardly concentrate on the notes, and during the brief foray into the realm of the piano, I found that I was having difficulty remembering the notes in bass clef. Why would I? I hardly ever look at them, much less play them. Guess it’s time to practice the piano once in a while just to keep the memory.

Today at work was a bit better. I love sitting with the kids and working math problems. If we figure it out together, then we all “get” it. I just love  being able to work in small groups with them, and it benefits them so much. That is my idea of “intervention,” a current buzzword in education, a concept I’ve been implementing for a long time. The afternoon wasn’t quite so frantic because of schedule modifications that allowed a tiny bit of time to breathe. I was grateful for the small reprieve from the impossible demands. I left work with more energy, and went on to the next thing.

I was thinking tonight of some of the places to which I try to escape from my world. Places of escape like Starbucks, or Dunkin Donuts, where I sometimes stop to get a cup of coffee, and pretend I am someone else. Or I go to the gym, where I walk on the treadmill to oblivion, carried away by more music, this kind  fast, insistent, and full of “inappropriate” words. No one talks to me at the gym. We are all there in our own little worlds, decompressing. Or, I sometimes go to Goodwill and drift through the aisles, wondering what stories the clothing and objects could tell, and who they used to belong to.

Tonight I was in escape mode again as I walked around the neighborhood, loud moody techno music in my ears from the iPod I was carrying. I looked up. Twilight was falling, the night was sinking in. Branches reached toward the sky, extending dry scraggly  silhouettes in the fading light. Another tree lifted exploded seed pods in exultation, another dramatic black silhouette worthy of bringing the camera next time, although I feel like I could never capture the the lonely isolation of the cold semi-darkness. A shadow flitted in my peripheral vision, a smoky film-like thing that might have been my fondest dreams. I shivered excitedly, not knowing why.

The more trying to escape I do, the more I know I never will. I am what I never wanted to be, imprisoned and unable to change to make things right, or to change the way things are and make them right. But a piece of me will always know that vague thing that lives in an alternate reality, in a place where it hopes it is not too late.

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2 thoughts on “Secret places

  1. Today’s Phrase of the Day, “tree lifted exploded seed pods in exultation,” lifted me up in exultation, too. Wow, I see the same kinds of things and it looks like a tree dumping junk on the ground that will dry up and crack as I walk. Actually, that assumes I take notice of the surroundings at all. I just don’t register those types of ideas at all. Thanks for sharing your creative eye with us commoners.

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