this morning, when i woke up in a jetlag haze, i discovered that my oft-beleaguered palm plant has grown two new fronds since i finally conquered its ongoing scale infestation and trimmed off the dead leaves last week. fuckin elated. actually spoke aloud to it: what is this? what? what does this mean? new growth? really? new fronds? really? that poor palm has been wilty and sad for so long, sort of like me. we're both sproutin' anew on this humid spring day.
some kind of faith was returned to me, largely during a nap in a sunbeam on the floor of the miami airport while clutching a copy of elmore leonard's gold coast like a teddy bear. during the nap i got the sense of total one-ness that only the uncontrolled transitional nature of travel can bring. it felt like a drug experience. i started having a sort of ... emotional hallucination there on the floor with the gold coast and my scarf over my arms and shoulders. i hallucinated the feeling of having a boyfriend, someone who was just off getting me something while i napped, a coffee, maybe. i realized, just now while i was thinking about how i would try to explain what happened during the nap, that the reason i felt like i had a boyfriend just off nap-camera (you know, the way you watch yourself out of body while you nap sometimes? or is that just me?) was because i felt safe and held, looked after, watched over.
but it was just travel that made me safe and held, the satisfaction of being alone and resourceful on a journey. and the equalizing effect of airports. when you travel, when you're in between without familiar signifiers, your identity is completely removed while at the same time becoming completely overblown. at least mine is, it feels that way: i'm just someone no one knows, transitional. but then all i have is where i've been, what i've done so far, what it's all added up to, and how i'd explain it if anyone ever asked, and i'm this character, what the fuck am i, god, has all of that really happened? to me? how good. how good so far. i've been at it, haven't i? so i walk around miami international smiling to myself like i've got a big secret and the big secret is my life up till now.
so some kind of wholeness came rushing back. i remembered a lot of stuff, some goals, community, some things i'd like to do, how there's no big hurry, how it's okay just to keep living life for the sheer fascination of it even if nothing concrete is ever accomplished, even if there is no ascension to some next level of success. i remembered that other people are fundamentally vulnerable and tender, especially when they are next to you on planes, and i stopped unfairly hating strangers simply for being human. i remembered something like trust. i remembered that it's all going to be okay!
blame airports, i don't know. vacation, too, i guess. seeing mom, seeing cats. having the drunk tourists of key west try to decipher the garbled mating call of my sutro tower tattoo. getting up and watching the sun rise from the white street pier and actually being so fucking spoiled by life that i felt like i could rate or compare the beauty of this sky to that of other skies i've seen.