oh my Paul, I loved everything about this wonderful piece. I find myself in limbo right now. I know I am in a transition but to what I have no idea. I always seem to shake up my life every ten years or so. it's been at least 30 years since the last big change. but, a change is coming. a decision needs to be made. its the decision part that has me troubled. "time will tell" - another one of those sayings. yes, time will tell. for now, I am going to go back and read your essay one more time.
My mother's greatest wish for me was "to find roots." Hers was a hard childhood of moving before the wolves knocked on the door. Thus, her wish for me. But all I wanted to do was get away. While I can put my finger on some of the issues, your essay here helps me explore others. I love my home and family right now. It's paradise ... for now. But for years, like you, I've had "road trip" or nomadic" on my brain, needling me to get in the Subaru and RUNTHEFUCKAWAY. Yesterday, I read Fran Warner's "Road Trip," and connected again with a nomadic spirit. Writing is now her release while her Subaru awaits in the garage. Am I needing to find a tribe? I think that's what's really in my heart at the moment. For 73 years, I've been trying to find a tribe. Thank you, Paul, for this splendid peek into our psyches.
Sue, thank YOU for reading and responding. I'm trying to embrace the spirit. It's easier to have a home base. I used to really follow the van-dwelling and RV communities online and I noticed that a lot of people who live on the road - by choice, at least - ultimately want to have a fixed base, even if they're still wandering. You can't keep all your stuff, along with a comfy bed, in a P.O. Box.
I've come to depend on "my nomads" for vicarious living. I doubt very much I'll follow them in reality, but it's oddly comfortable to enjoy the ride without all the hassles they go through. These days, changing a light bulb is a challenge. I'm getting lazier by the day. Also, I just started reading your book and am enjoying it immensely. I couldn't read past the Lariat Hotel during this session because that story hit close to home. I know where that Maverick is and can't imagine a more stripmauled area of that town, much less the cozy and intriguing place you described. I hope the old man haunts there still and doesn't get too fed up with all the changes. Otherwise, he might start throwing more destructive objects.
Sue, I usually don't believe in such things, but I am convinced he's there. He's there when *I* go looking for him, at least. I have a friend who boycotts Fallon because he got a ticket there one lonely night when he was speeding home to California. There's something I will always like about that town, even if I'll always feel like a stranger there. I usually stay at the Motel 6 on the other side of town. I never hang, but it feels like a safe place to land for the night. Oddly, I can't think of any really good food there, either. Same friend and I used to joke about writing a "Great Restaurants of the Great Basin" book that would be maybe 8 pages long. Almost at the top would be The Griddle, in Winnemucca. I'm sure some of the Basque places are great, but I have not tried any yet. Thanks, Sue.
This piece really moved me. It conveys a lot of what I know a lot of people feel...and I have to say that as I was reading I kept thinking this is how I would also feel were it not for my absolute sense (I'd even go so far to say knowledge) of God. I would definitely feel rootless and alone and in the limbo of waiting if I didn't have the knowledge that I'm on a journey that I chose, and that I'm not meant to remember the reason at this time. You're doing the right thing if, in all your travels, you are looking to make a place better for your having been there. Caring for people as you go--wherever you go...that's what the journey is about, I feel certain. You are perfectly safe! You are loved deeply. And we are all just visitors here on earth, passing through on our way back home.
Thanks, Kathryn. Seeking takes many forms and I do like to stay in touch with some forces outside of myself, although it's not always intentional. I try to remain open to things.
I stand at the ready to answer any questions as to what Limbo looks, smells or sounds like. I can be your guide to the state of Limbo for NO FEE at all! If you like this service, you can sign up for subsidized flights to the State of Limbo for a nominal fee, payable in your local currency.
Great piece. I'm reading about the bluesman Robert Johnson and I can emphasize with his dieing wish to be buried "close to the highway, so my wicked soul can catch the Greyhound bus to the next town anytime it wants". I'm in limbo right now. Stuff in storage. Hard to find a place to call home. Complicated health problems, etc., etc. Thanks for putting some of my thoughts into words this morning.
And, thank you! I just read the new book on Johnson. I wonder if there’s some genetic component and some humans just like to wander while others like to settle down.
oh my Paul, I loved everything about this wonderful piece. I find myself in limbo right now. I know I am in a transition but to what I have no idea. I always seem to shake up my life every ten years or so. it's been at least 30 years since the last big change. but, a change is coming. a decision needs to be made. its the decision part that has me troubled. "time will tell" - another one of those sayings. yes, time will tell. for now, I am going to go back and read your essay one more time.
Thank you so much, Tabby! I’m trying to just roll with it.
My mother's greatest wish for me was "to find roots." Hers was a hard childhood of moving before the wolves knocked on the door. Thus, her wish for me. But all I wanted to do was get away. While I can put my finger on some of the issues, your essay here helps me explore others. I love my home and family right now. It's paradise ... for now. But for years, like you, I've had "road trip" or nomadic" on my brain, needling me to get in the Subaru and RUNTHEFUCKAWAY. Yesterday, I read Fran Warner's "Road Trip," and connected again with a nomadic spirit. Writing is now her release while her Subaru awaits in the garage. Am I needing to find a tribe? I think that's what's really in my heart at the moment. For 73 years, I've been trying to find a tribe. Thank you, Paul, for this splendid peek into our psyches.
Sue, thank YOU for reading and responding. I'm trying to embrace the spirit. It's easier to have a home base. I used to really follow the van-dwelling and RV communities online and I noticed that a lot of people who live on the road - by choice, at least - ultimately want to have a fixed base, even if they're still wandering. You can't keep all your stuff, along with a comfy bed, in a P.O. Box.
I've come to depend on "my nomads" for vicarious living. I doubt very much I'll follow them in reality, but it's oddly comfortable to enjoy the ride without all the hassles they go through. These days, changing a light bulb is a challenge. I'm getting lazier by the day. Also, I just started reading your book and am enjoying it immensely. I couldn't read past the Lariat Hotel during this session because that story hit close to home. I know where that Maverick is and can't imagine a more stripmauled area of that town, much less the cozy and intriguing place you described. I hope the old man haunts there still and doesn't get too fed up with all the changes. Otherwise, he might start throwing more destructive objects.
Sue, I usually don't believe in such things, but I am convinced he's there. He's there when *I* go looking for him, at least. I have a friend who boycotts Fallon because he got a ticket there one lonely night when he was speeding home to California. There's something I will always like about that town, even if I'll always feel like a stranger there. I usually stay at the Motel 6 on the other side of town. I never hang, but it feels like a safe place to land for the night. Oddly, I can't think of any really good food there, either. Same friend and I used to joke about writing a "Great Restaurants of the Great Basin" book that would be maybe 8 pages long. Almost at the top would be The Griddle, in Winnemucca. I'm sure some of the Basque places are great, but I have not tried any yet. Thanks, Sue.
This piece really moved me. It conveys a lot of what I know a lot of people feel...and I have to say that as I was reading I kept thinking this is how I would also feel were it not for my absolute sense (I'd even go so far to say knowledge) of God. I would definitely feel rootless and alone and in the limbo of waiting if I didn't have the knowledge that I'm on a journey that I chose, and that I'm not meant to remember the reason at this time. You're doing the right thing if, in all your travels, you are looking to make a place better for your having been there. Caring for people as you go--wherever you go...that's what the journey is about, I feel certain. You are perfectly safe! You are loved deeply. And we are all just visitors here on earth, passing through on our way back home.
Thanks, Kathryn. Seeking takes many forms and I do like to stay in touch with some forces outside of myself, although it's not always intentional. I try to remain open to things.
I stand at the ready to answer any questions as to what Limbo looks, smells or sounds like. I can be your guide to the state of Limbo for NO FEE at all! If you like this service, you can sign up for subsidized flights to the State of Limbo for a nominal fee, payable in your local currency.
Great piece. I'm reading about the bluesman Robert Johnson and I can emphasize with his dieing wish to be buried "close to the highway, so my wicked soul can catch the Greyhound bus to the next town anytime it wants". I'm in limbo right now. Stuff in storage. Hard to find a place to call home. Complicated health problems, etc., etc. Thanks for putting some of my thoughts into words this morning.
And, thank you! I just read the new book on Johnson. I wonder if there’s some genetic component and some humans just like to wander while others like to settle down.
Thanks for letting it all hang out, Paul. Others don't have the guts to be so brutally honest. To do so feels liberating.
Thank you, Cherie!!
Thanks, Connie. I wish I could give this comment triple hearts. It's the best thing to wake up to. Sending love.