You asked me about myself

 

Every time you ask me about myself, I draw a blank. I could tell you my favorite movies, what song I am am stuck on right now, where I was born, and any number of other details, but it all seems pointless. I don't know how much those things actually tell you, and to be honest, I get a little bit board with them. They are easy to come by. I could write them in a social media profile or list them off in a random conversation. 

The opposite extreme would be to share my inner life. I have ignored that for so long I don't even know where to start. I have buried myself in work, family, and every manner of obligation for a long, long time. All of that busy, tangled, foliage has been a fantastic place to hide, but now I find I can't answer the most simple question - just tell me about yourself. So I'll do my best. 

I am, and always will be, standing in heartbroken awe of the world and it's human inhabitants. I will never stop loving what we could be, and I will never get over the violence we commit against ourselves and each other every day. I refuse to reconcile this, and I refuse to stop hoping. I am not naive, I am fucking stubborn. 

I love the natural world because I lose myself in it. When I am in nature I am absorbed by everything around me. I am fascinated by every tiny detail and the endless complexity that we will never truly understand. I love this about it. There should always be mystery that is larger than us, and we should always be reaching with everything we have for something that is just beyond our grasp. I want to be swallowed whole by whatever this is. 

When I was a child I would become suddenly overwhelmed by a sense that my existence was tenuous and delicate. I would feel as if I was not real, and it would stop me in my tracks. I remember visiting a state park with my family, and walking down a set of railroad-tie stairs, watching the dappled sunlight dance around on the forest floor. For a moment there was no one around, no sounds, nothing. Something shifted and I felt translucent and detached, like I was not even standing on the ground. I was sure that if the soft breeze blew any harder, it would blow right through me, and I would simply dissolve into the air. I held my breath, wanting to keep the moment, and then someone called me and it was gone. I wish I understood what that was. 

I don't like to talk too much when I am hiking. Too many people do this. I don't have anything against talking, I just would really like to fully enjoy a beautiful place with people I like, and that doesn't happen when we are distracted by everyday things. Plus, talking scares the animals away. 

I am really terrible at spelling. Really, really terrible. I hate being the one writing on the board in small group discussions because of this. Somehow it always ends up that way, though. 

I got married because I made a conscious decision between a life of travel, temporary projects, and temporary relationships, and a life that I would invest myself in. I believe with all my heart that getting married to the person I married was the right choice. I would not be as stable or brave as I am today had it not been for him. I would not have my beautiful daughter had it not been for him. I also believe with all my heart that divorcing him was the right thing to do. Both were good decisions. This is not a contradiction. 

I love trees. They have a presence. I am sure we will never be able to explain this in my lifetime, but they do. I feel at peace when I am with them. I also live in a house made of trees. I hope trees can make use of me someday.  I love the look of bare trees, and twisted, old trees, and trees that are dead but refuse to fall over just yet. I can't explain this, I just love them. 

I was taught that every time you say the word "I", you are feeling sorry for yourself. I know this is bullshit but I can't shake the idea. It's stuck. 

I can't talk about geology without making sound effects. When I took geology we did most of our work in small groups, and I was dubbed the "sound effects girl". The earth's wobble sounds a little bit like something from the 3 stooges, and moraines make gravely sucking sounds as they recede. Volcanos are pretty self-explanatory. 

I really, really love people, I love their stories and I love learning everything I can from them. I also need a lot of time away from them to process what they give me. It's a lot, and it gets overwhelming. 

Somehow within all of this I try to project an image of strength, stability, humor, and competence. I believe it most of the time. I want to believe it all of the time. Maybe someday I will.