The almost 3 months since the trail has felt to be a flurry externally, and an incubation – internally. Externally, a flash of places and faces: Seattle, Summerland, Vancouver, NYC, Ithaca, and driving cross-country to SoCal.
Internally, it has been relief, agitation, fear, crystallization. I’m afraid of being stuck, I’m afraid of not making progress, I’m afraid of not having money, and I’m afraid that I will be left behind by people doing more societally accepted things.
The fear can be paralyzing. A voice in my head urges, “Hurry, hurry!” And I must keep busy, I must catch up, I must make a name for myself, I must make money, I must stop being a loser crashing on peoples’ couches.
No one actually *tells* me to do those things, but objects – like solidified thoughts – invade my mental space. Peoples’ outfits say “you must look beautiful”; peoples’ cars say “appearances matter more”; peoples’ houses say “money matters most.” And when people aren’t present, they say “you don’t matter.”
How quickly the silliness of the “real” world settles in! I lay awake, fearing. But beneath the fear there is a glimmer – another dream. Slowly, I feel it crystallizing – gently, silently – and – like most good dreams – it scares the shit out of me.