Guess where I am?

Celebrating Veteran's Day...

Who are you?

It's not about your looks or your job or money or status. It's not about where you grew up, or your past.

The German Romantics had it right:
"Tell me what you long for, and I'll tell you who you are."

What do you long for?

With watchful eyes, sitting

Grey skies drooping.

Water dripping from above.

[At least it's not snow.]

 

Cosy in my dark corner of the world.

Hiding. Still. Waiting.

 

Old time nostaglia seeps in.

Like music from a record.

Into my brain.

 

The idea of Paris.

Hiding in a cafe window.

Scribbling. Sipping. Dreaming. Wondering.

 

Silence waits, welcoming.

That time of year. 

Driving in Germany: Not a pleasure

Yesterday, I got my car up to 205 km/hr. That's approximately 130mph.

 

Why? Because I felt like it. Because I could. And other cars were driving as fast. So I thought, what the hell. I don't think the mini can go much higher than that, unless I found a steep downhill. Then perhaps 140mph. But why? Am I suicidal? Maybe.

 

After a day of driving on German roads, with German drivers at the wheel, who honk if you haven't jammed the gas pedal the moment before the light turns green (yes, before) I might be a little lackadaisical about life. 

 

Here in Germany, first the light turns yellow, then green, so as to minimise seconds wasted waiting to push the gas pedal. Germans are not afraid to use their horn to honk at you immediately, if you are so daft as to hesitate moving forward. And may God strike you down if you kill the engine while trying to slam on the gas. Then you'll certainly suffer hearing damage from the horn at your car's ass.

 

Granted, the roads are generally in pristine condition. Otherwise how else would one drive over 200km/hr? I'm bitching, but it's not entirely fair to Germany. I generally hate driving and would go to most lengths to avoid it. Here, in the country, I can't not have a car. So I do. And I drive. But I'd rather not. After a day in the car, my arms are sore from clutching the wheel. (No, this is not exaggeration.) And my mind is spinning from sensory overload. A person who's mildly afflicted with ADHD does not belong driving a car for great lengths of time. I've thought so far as to get married just to find someone who might drive me around. But I've yet to reach that level of despair. You never know.

If you're lucky, it finds you for a while.

The thing is, love can end anytime.
We look for it all our lives. In people. In things. In our surroundings.
Sometimes in ourselves.

And just when we forget about it and relax, there it is.
Like sunlight suddenly glinting your eye from the side
While you're driving your car.

It found you.

And so you laugh and relax into your new found joy.
Wondering if you should be holding your breath.

And then poof, it's shut off.
Crashed into a tree and evaporated.
Before you could say, "wait."

But that doesn't mean you shouldn't accept love
When it shows up at your door.
Whether quietly knocking, or boldly banging.

Rather, open your arms.
Invite it in. As long as it wishes to stay.
Knowing that love, as all things, is temporary.
We are temporary.

Maybe your magic will last a day. Or a year. Or a lifetime.
It is a little sad. But it is also beautiful.

In memory of my dad, Keith.
Who had a Great Love with my mom, Kathy. While it lasted.
He died 27 years ago today.

"To be content in bliss, without desire or insistence anywhere.
To be content in heaven: to be together in happy stillness."
- DH Lawrence