new year. happy or not, here it comes.
30 December 2011 § 1 Comment
well, okay, not yet. but I’ve been thinking about my past holidays recently and found something amazing: on new years three years running, I’ve found myself on the blue coast of a beach town in some part of the world where, not too long ago, I never, ever, thought I’d visit. Miami brought in 2010, post travel. Zadar introduced 2011 to me in an Irish pub tucked into the depths of a Croatian castle, a New Zealander across the table from me and a Mexican tequila between us. Now, I don’t want to pretend I’ve got any sort of foresight, but I’m in Playa del Coco, Costa Rica right now, Sonambulo is about to play, and I’m not planning on going anywhere before next week. (The Sonambulo thing is a sidenote made to promote a great band and a little jealously, because once you hear them, you won’t want to stop). It’s kind of hard to put into words right now – which is why I’m silently sitting at a computer in an American bar, where I’m sure not to say a word to anyone, typing in a font I can’t even read, but – life is wonderful. And it is what I’ve made of it. Somehow, with all that _____ and _____, that I did _____ with and wanted ______. There’s no room for those words, not right now, not here.
I know what I’m still missing, or at least I have an idea. The boat ride up to Witch’s Rock in Santa Rosa told me some things I needed to know:
quit the expectation.
learn to communicate better, because otherwise you’ll never know what you’re agreeing to.
if you want to do something, fucking do it already.
and the seacave around the corner from the infamous Four Seasons where high class celebrities (whom here will go unnamed) pay boatmen two hundred dollar tips like yesterday, and did I really need to know that she’s here? I don’t care,.but I hope she’s having a good time, it told me some things, as I underscord the island with a poem to listen to its echoes and waves, it put me in the middle of the crashing waves, the ones which take the crabs away, wash them to somewhere, else, where the algae lives, where the Life is, where only the day before on another set of outcropped lavarocks I sat above, on the safe and secure and lifeless surface where no tide reached but in the first signs of spring, which is ambivalent and might not exist here.
Recently as yesterday, I was watching life below me happen, watching the struggle and the swell come in, and sometimes it seemed like forever before it went out again. Life under it could have been happening, or drowning. It didn’t matter which. I wasn’t in it. And yesterday, in a place I thought was somewhere else, I walked through that tunnel and found my untakencareof foot hurt yet again under the strong sun, and when I came out of it, at my tico brother’s polite request, I’d rid myself of the frustration of not being able to understand people who spoke only to me.
on stage a couple of months ago, I read a piece to a crowd which contained people whom I’d hoped to graciously insult with one line:
some things don’t break when you throw rocks at them – like people who talk because they never learned how to listen.
Only under the heat of the spotlight and feeling the blood rushing to my face did I realize that I hadn’t written any of that about any of them. The crowd was quiet until I pointed to myself, humbled by my own comment. Then they made a noise which sounded like either agreement or empathy. It didn’t matter which.
I have some resolutions, I do. But I don’t measure life by years. Dates only help as they relate to others. however. I will learn how to listen. starting now.