re-entry

they warn us when we leave residency (ten days of artists doing what they do), that we're radioactive. to not make any big changes immediately, don't move to a mountaintop cabin (though i may someday), don't ask for a divorce (already did that), don't expect anyone to understand (i don't). it's hard to explain. the process is grueling really, ten twelve hour days stacked one on top of the other in many ways it feels like you're stuck in some otherworld bent on clarifying commas or unifying tenses, but on the other, there is camaraderie there. there is freedom.

it was a time of openness for me in a way i hadn't expected. i went with hedonism on the brain and that was the rule i lived by. i asked nothing more of myself than what i wanted. i, not anyone else. it was liberating, invigorating. all that. and more.

home now. i have a child underfoot, she's not a baby, but teens demand in their own way. have their own needs. sometimes more complicated, more intense than the swaddling or changing of a baby. though that is life altering in its own.

some nights i drag in near midnight, that's when i get off work, and she wants to talk, so we do. i try to keep the eyelids peeled until she's done. but it gets tough. i am not superwoman. this i've come to acknowledge only of late. i am trying to return to human expectation of self. set limitations on what i demand of my self, my body, my mind. but i've pushed the limits for so long, it feels like idleness when i sit for a moment.

i drove back down the long drive to my cottage, and the lush green, the healing sway of boughs welcomed me back. but i was not fully back, still, not fully back. it's taking me some time to reengage here. to want to be here. i'm trying, genuinely trying. i don't like hiding. i don't like not being who i am. i guess i've reached an impasse where i have to decide to be open with my life in my life, whatever that means. i have not yet decided what that means.

my favorite prof poet said to me,

your sexuality, your voice, your being is all celebratory.

which is true. all of it now is about sucking the marrow. finding delight and lingering there in the nectar laden moments. being with those i love.

i have a lot of work to do (not crazy, like last semester), and my personal intrigues will run right alongside like a junkyard dog trying to get a rise out of me. i won't let it. i will turn and face the dog and send it, tail tucked between its legs back to the junkyard. leave me alone.

i've done no more and no less than i've wanted to this point.

i've never lived like this,

i said.

i don't think i can go back, after living freely. how can you go back?

the thing is, she said,

no one is asking you to.

and that's the bottom line. she likes my mind, says

i'm too smart for my own good.

maybe she's right.

but this i know. one year more, then i will begin my dream job. i know where it is and what i want. that is half the battle. i've come to understand that about my life, when i say yes, the force it releases is beyond comprehension. to this point i've only said, not no where the job is concerned. throwing resumes at jobs i couldn't not apply for. but now, i will go after this one, this thing i want, and it will be mine. it will come to me, in fact. the way all things do. in wonder and at the right time.

i miss boston, i do. but there is much yet to accomplish here. and so here i must be. all of me.

that which is mine will come to me, i believe this.