Home.

Well,

...this is the first in some time.

I have moved to California.

A thousand things have happened already, in the endings and beginnings of it all: and I've only just arrived. To start a life. That's laughable-- there is no starting but an easing in, however full of energy and drive it may be; no matter the ebb & flow of things...

Well. I have arrived. Right now. An hour or so ago. It feels like home. It feels right. But what is right? (Silly question).

But lying there on my bed (the only part of the room that does not quite feel mine, yet, but I'm sure will settle with time), I have just learned my first lesson: to begin. To do. Just DO.

Now. And Now. And Now. No hesitation. No thinking: no longer thinking-- just write. Just dance. Don't eat. Don't distract....DON'T WAIT. Or it will be gone. Just breathe. Just speak or sing. Just go outside. But DO. Now.

The loneliness just hit me. HIT. HARD.

All of it...this empty pulling & yearning. It occurred to me, though, that this is not a foriegn friend. This longing. I remember feeling this same way in high school. I was overwhelmed & consumed by it: just like I am now. Living in this same city, or another nearby. And it's here now. I remember. I couldn't keep my skin around me; wanted to scream & thought I would shatter into a thousand pieces, scattering through the atmosphere, the trees, the earth around me... I wanted to run. And scream. But instead I put something in my mouth. Shut my door. Cried inwardly and stared out the window with a thirst that could not be matched by Tantalus ...I ached.

(I ache.)

But somehow, knowing what this feeling is now: this loneliness. The need for something...at least being able to recognize it, makes it feel....more...full somehow. Knowing that I have to dive into life, be full of it....It isn't a cure. But it eases some of the aching. It is...somehow comforting to know: oh, hey. I'm lonely. And knowing I'm lonely, somehow...eases that loneliness. I realize, no. I'm not truly lonely. That's just another false void to fill. Really, I'm just....alive. So full of life. And scared of it. And it must go somewhere. Replenish the endless sea of things, perhaps...I don't know. But I have so much in me...it must GO somewhere...somewhere besides this room.

I need to write. To paint. I must dance. I must go outside. And NOW. Now. And Now. Only then can I truly make love to this world, with myself...and perhaps that is, in essence what I am longing for...to totally explore all of everything. Be part of it. Be all of it at once...

....yes, it IS like that.

Most of my life, I have used so many things to cover up, fill in, and blame my lack of motion, of living, on.

...at least I know now what to do...

Do. Seek. Go. Be. And be still.

....Breathe.

So here I am. Writing. And I feel...so much better. I put down my cashews. Turned on the computer...and..well. Here I am. I am here, now.

And suddenly, I realized I wasn't really hungry after all. Or...perhaps it is solely that now, for a moment: I am full. With what I truly wanted.

Changes the feeling behind, "to give is to receive," doesn't it?


I.....

.....but I do wonder...where does all this longing come from? What is it we yearn for?

Was it always like this...? Before 'civilized time' or did we used to understand? ...did the first cave man ache & want like this? Did it drive him made as well? Is that why really we traveled? Has this stagnance trapped more in us than we know?

...or is there something out there & in here all at once, that we have forgotten how to recognize?

Whatever changed the monkey to the man...When he at last stood taller, I wonder, was he looking at the sky...?