Dude. So before, when Britt and I talked about being gypsies, I was being somewhat facetious. I mean, yes, I do tend to move around a lot and I do really feel like myself when I’m traveling, but am I really a gypsy?
I mean, technically I’m not. Technically I’m German and Swedish and Irish. But let’s think about this for a second! Humanity started in Africa, right? So my ancestors migrated from Africa so far North into the cold frigid Northern European lands that they lost all the pigment in their skin and became weird crazy Albino humans. You know, like me and Britt.
Then they got pissed off from being so damn cold all the time and so got on some boats, put on some silly hats, and pillaged a bunch of other people. Even then they weren’t satisfied, so they moved all the way across the Atlantic Ocean to America. And THEN my predecessors STILL were too antsy to stay put and migrated all the way across the continent to the wild wild West. So maybe my ancestors weren’t gypsies but they were some nomadic mofos!
Don’t look at me like that gypsy-Johnny! I’m not trying to insult you! This is SCIENCE, yo! ………Okay let me try another angle on this……
I would be lying if I tried to say that the movie Chocolat is not, to this day, one of my favorite movies. Maybe it doesn’t have the reputation of The Godfather, but it does star Juliette Binoche, Judi Dench, Lena Olin, Alfred Molina, and Johnny Depp, which is an incredible lineup. In case you haven’t seen it, it’s about a French/Mayan woman with a nomadic soul who moves to a conservative French town and tries to open a Chocolaterie. Of course, she meets a gypsy and falls in love, blah blah blah.
But watching this movie as a kid, the thing that called to me most achingly from the movie was the concept of this North Wind. Whenever the North Wind blew, something in (the main character) Vianne’s bones told her it was time to move on to the next place, and she packed her bags and moved on, forever. It was a sort of blessing and a curse: She had to abandon any relationships she’d built, but she also got to fulfill this deep primal urge to move on to whatever’s next.
When I was a kid in Boise, my absolute favorite time of year was the Fall. Literally, the North Wind started blowing: the air turned crisp and fresh, the leaves turned, and their was a sense of campfires, hot cider, and impending winter on the way. The winds of change started blowing, a new school year began, and the frigid winds promised that snow and holidays would eventually come.
Extrapolating this out to my adult life, for the past two years, I can’t seem to stay in one place for more than three months, on average. At first I blamed it on circumstances of living situations, on being in my 20’s, whatever. But this Spring I came to realize that, damn. It might just be Me. I think it’s in my blood.
Awwww Thanks, empathetic Oprah! You’re the best. But as soon at March 20, 2013 rolled around, Spring officially became the Season in season, the Santa Ana winds started up in LA, and I started feeling antsy as fuck.
It makes no sense. I LOVE everything I am doing. Lately, the ole Grad Program has been piling on material, and every time I get another scene or sonnet or project or whatever to work on, I get a sick pleasure out of adding it to the pile of stuff to memorize. But another part of me is waking up in the morning and making the same damn drive to the same damn parking structure and trying to force myself to eat the same damn healthy foods and be such a good girl with such good habits and LOSING MY MIND. Routine is killing me.
I’ve come to realize that I literally have NO habits. Good or Bad. I have tics, maybe, mannerisms, but habits? Not really. I think I am incapable of doing something consistently. I can do anything with a Puritanical discipline for two or three weeks. Then I get bored and distracted and feel restricted. So I guess I have a bad habit of not having good habits. Or I habitually break habits.
But here’s the thing that this realization has helped me realize… (Shut up, y’all, I didn’t major in English.) I can actually turn this quirk to my advantage! You know why? Because there are only 3 1/2 weeks left in the semester!! WOOOOOOOO!!!!!
If you had talked to me a week ago, or even two days ago, you would have encountered an antsy, dissatisfied, grumpy chick whose mind already had flown across the globe to India. But no more! Today I am re-framing my life: 3 1/2 more weeks of hard work, then 3 weeks of preparation, then 8 weeks of India!! I can do anything with Puritanical discipline for 3 weeks, remember? So maybe that’s the secret for me. I’ve just gotta bite off life in 3 week chunks, so I can really be present in devoting myself to whatever I am doing. It is incredibly empowering to me to acknowledge the fact that, maybe my inner nomad starts to call to me with the change of seasons, but that also gives me all this great energy to pour into my work.
So with that said, I have no choice but to leave you with this song. I’m not a huge Bruce Springsteen fan, but baby, I was born to run.