(Phaysis)

So I’m getting ready to begin the start of my prepping for my departure to Texarkana tomorrow. I would already be all packed and loaded, but this coffee won’t drink itself. Besides, it’s my life, it’s my time.

Not really. It’s work, coffee, Ruby on Rails. Sleep. Rinse and repeat.

I really should’ve had this Ruby on Rails project finished long before now. It’s supposed to be simple with RoR. Shit simple. But I keep making it difficult. Keep adding stuff like “secure database queries” and “input validation”…and I’m not even started on the Posts models yet! One of these days, I’ll do a proper writeup of my RoR experiences, but there’s no time for that, what with my staring dumbfaced at code and drifting off to play minesweeper for 3 hours before bed.

I need a break. Really, I need a break. I guess part of my fascination with the latest U2 album is that the band sequestered themselves to a villa in Fez, Morocco while they wrote the album. It’s the idea of being someplace else for a while and finding my voice again that appeals to me. I don’t travel, and I typically don’t make plans to leave town for the weekend. So I end up being here, doing the same ol’, for months on end, with little variations in the pattern. It’s no wonder I’ve grown old and inflexible.

I feel like leaving for a while, but going to Texarkana this weekend for 48 hours will have to do, I guess. I won’t have the time, energy, or space to throw myself to the muses; trips home aren’t for that. Travel isn’t for me; that’s my feeling. Travel is for people who have accrued vacation time and have managerial approval to spend it. Travel is for the unemployed who have friends in distant cities. Travel is for people who don’t have to worry about supporting themselves or paying rent on a place to store their stuff. Working stiff contractors like me can’t travel. Time worked is time paid, and I am running broke.

Maybe I should just sell all my stuff and roam. Eh, I’m too old for that. At my age, that kind of behavior is just two steps away from being a homeless bum. I dunno, maybe it’ll be therapeutic, or maybe if I throw myself at the bottom hard enough I’ll bounce up higher than I am now. Maybe I actually flourish in the face of change. Who’s to know?

The other day a feeling passed over me and stuck. It spawned a thought concerning past relationships (an ill ground to tread repeatedly, yes, but it is what I have left to keep). My first relationship, even though it failed miserably, there was something there in those first months that was special: the blind innocence, the exploration. I was treading new ground. We were treading new ground.

It is The Fool who leads the Major Arcana of the tarot, and here it is quite fitting: The Fool begins the journey with great intent, great ignorance, great innocence. Every turn in the road is new to him. Every sight, eye-opening. Every experience a life lesson.

And it was with that Fool-like abandon that we learned, we explored our relationship, we loved. The nervousness, the giddiness; I had no idea what I was doing or what I was supposed to be thinking or saying, but I learned. And it’s been a long, long time since I felt that new-ness. Maybe I’m jaded. Maybe I’ve seen too much. Maybe I’ve pushed the boundaries too far, and now I seldom brush against them — that’s where the real pleasure of something new exists. My world was small back then, so every boundary was new (my world’s small now, but in a grownup way, I guess). I was a simple boy from Texarkana fumbling into this relationship; and now I’m this jaded adult going on his 9th year without a steady relationship. One night stands are a poor substitute; in them, you have no space to explore, just something “new” and then you move on with no time to savor, learn, and enjoy. Almost no chance to brush the boundaries.

I want to feel that new-ness again, the simmering beneath the surface, the coy smiles, the exploration, the trial and error. Can I feel that? Can I go back to the beginning? I feel this burden to already have it figured out when I go into a relationship; is this a requirement for today’s woman? Can I drop the pretense, be honest and make another attempt at innocence?