Tuesday, September 09, 2008

Break Down Here

I have lived in Alabama: Round Two 2 years and 3 months. Lots has happened to me in that time. In fact, my life, since 2005, has changed quite radically. I've gone from owning a home and sort of being in control of everything - gardening and dinner parties, volunteering with community projects, and riding my horse ... oh Hell, let's just call it Junior League - to sort of being on not really a freefall, but definitely a freeway. It's difficult to describe.

What I recognize is that we should not expect to replace our history in our present, but realize its value as an archive which allows us to reference a safe place or a fond memory, reminding us there is hope and peace to be had. I always recognize the filters the mind places on our memory - seldom does the insignificant stick or make a lasting impression on the long-term. At least it doesn't for me. If it did, I'd rather just shoot myself now and get it over with.

There are times when my life in Arkansas seems like it was a dream. 10 years I lived there and sometimes I barely remember it. I know it's because I'm in this sort of vortex where I try to cram a million things into a day. Not very healthy, of course, but it's my reality. I'm not unraveling, I'm just constantly being challenged to define what's important to me. But when I reflect on Arkansas, all I remember are good things. Happy things. It's almost like watching a movie.

Yesterday I was overwhelmed with a sense of driving down Interstate 30 toward Dallas, somewhere in North Texas (probably around Sulphur Springs). It was Spring and everything was chartreuse, and grackles were flying all around. We were en route to a horse show in Weatherford and I was with my friend Kim. Maddie was not even a year old then but she was in the back seat being her unique little Jack Russell self (read: chewing things up). I don't know why I was flooded with the memory but it made me happy. It reminded me of a horse who is no longer with me, a friend who I don't speak with regularly but who I cared a great deal for, and a moment in my life that was, apparently, significant in its simplicity.

1 comment:

allie said...

Robby, I know those tiny moment memories that flood your brain, I have them all the time. And they never seem to have much significance, but i'm sure they do. It's important to remember them, but for what reason I don't know, maybe just a reminder of 'being'.