Falling Slowly

I sing to myself.

And I talk to myself. 

Lately I have been singing random little pieces of songs to myself and in them I find a comfort similar to that of rocking back and forth in the hammock. It's soothing, and its moving. I feel really isolated in my thoughts these days, and I have experienced some emotional highs and lows this week that I am still trying to understand and sort out. 

I leave tomorrow for my time away. What began as the mental health holiday opportunity to check some things out, turned into investigation and preparation to move out of Virginia. How quickly it changed. A small thought to get some perspective, and then a day later everything about it was completely different. I know the day it all changed, and sometimes I wonder what about that day, the conversations I had, the weather- the mood, flipped the switch. I think in my heart I finally heard a question I could not answer with any other solution.

Since returning from CT last Saturday, I have had 6 nights of late night conversations that at one point or another had me laughing or crying. I have gone to bed emotional and exhausted, and have woken up each morning hoping for some peace. Aching for it to be over, and then aching for it never to really begin. Breaking away is hard. I was told that I wasn't allowed to check out. I know that's true- but I think there's a difference between checking out, and moving on. In that process is a constant fight between instinct, personal preservation, and complete desire for more. 

In my head I have melodies that help articulate thoughts and feelings that are not being spoken between myself and those I am in the company of. I know that we are often made aware of how we felt about something, or someone when its gone. Absence makes the heart grow fonder... I know that its true because in traveling my heart knew how much a friendship, a dog, a house, and a life meant to me. How do you stand in the beginning of change and movement and not choose comfort in never having to let go? 

While standing, running, falling, laying, and driving I hear notes and I hear harmonies. I hear them the same way that in my mind I see images of trees, leaves, setting suns, crashing waves, and eyes that can read all 'my faces'. It is clear, and it is profound... I don't understand it, and I don't know if I ever will. 

Today... the song and sounds I hear that have carried me through motions of making Eggo's for breakfast, writing a Birthday card to a friend, folding laundry, and thinking about what I still need to say... I return to the movement and sentiment in Falling Slowly. 

"Falling slowly, eyes that know me
And I can't go back...

Take this sinking boat and point it home
We've still got time
Raise your hopeful voice you had a choice
You've made it now
Falling slowly sing your melody
I'll sing along"