greenstorm | Evening Stalks the Apartment

It's quiet here. I'm at home, back in Abbotsford, in the apartment that we'll be leaving in between two and six weeks. I can't hear anyone through the walls, there's no one breathing in the airspace by me, and I can't step outside and make my way to anywhere without relying on anyone else.

I'm very isolated in this apartment, in Abbotsford in general, and I'm glad to move into the city. There's a feeling, there, of being more in control.

But tonight there is a feeling of powerlessness, of isolation, and of... vague dissatisfaction. I spent the week at TOH where there was always someone to pull me out of myself, if not right then, then in an hour, or after work. It was a constant reminder that the human world is bigger than I am.

It's easy, when I'm alone, to let my idealism crystallise into a diamond-hard armour. It's easy to forget the joys of compromise, the excitement of surprise, the wide-eyed wonder that comes with something bing very truly different from the way you think it is. It's definitely hard to re-integrate into living like a family, living with other people as a member of humanity.

I still feel very connected to everyone right now. That ability to connect, nourished over the week, has kept me close to the SO lately -- that, and maybe the shared respnsibilities and experiences of house-hunting. Even though I haven't spoken to the Juggler or TOW today, nor am I likely to soon, they're very much a present force in my mental landscape.

I feel -- and sometimes this feeling has hit me so strongly that it's like a punch to the gut, like when we're walking all four together and I see our shadows stretched out in front of us in a line -- I feel like I'm a part of something, and what's more I'm a part of something very powerful. This constant turning of the wheel of change which keeps sweeping me around and away has meaning, it has purpose, it resonates through everyone's lives as much as it does my own.

There's something important to be made, or found, out there. It's easy enough to change things inside myself, if sometimes painful, but there's nothing in me that's worthwhile if it isn't linked somehow to other realities. This is more important than self-indulgence, a beast made up of hugs before work and sitting at the computer with your backs to each other checking email.

And so I ramble on as the seconds tick away on my computer's toolbar. It's late, and I'm tired -- I've slept an astounding amount today, a good fourteen or so hours, and been productive during my waking time. I'm not sure if that's better or worse than the insomnia plus nonproductive restless lounging that came before. It's the way things are, at least, and maybe I won't waste energy judging it if no judgement places itself squarely in my lap.

We're officially out of here on October 15th, and in there September 15th, so we have a month's overlap. I've been wandering about thinking about space and packing in between bursts of laundry and dishes and sorting through stuff to throw away and gardening. I don't have very much to throw away except my plants, and most of those are safe.

...well, safe from being thrown out. I killed some, being gone for so long. They just didn't get enough water. I feel terrible about that, really terrible, and I don't want that sort of thing to happen again.

That was the admission that I was dancing around making last night, and dancing around making in this post. The avocado is gone, as is the little basket of apple mint, one lemon tree, the asparagus fern for the second time... it hurts. The avocado seed that I thought was dead has sent up another shoot as if in consolation, the lemon tree's sister plant is still alive, but eh. I need to keep my priorities straight, or at least compatible. Being able to bus home and water in the midst of any future vacation I take like that will be nice.

On an interesting side note, I got my first tomatoes today. Yes, that's right -- my volunteer tomato plants that grew all by themselves, unplanted, from last year's fallen fruit have bourne... well, more fruit. They're descendants of sungolds, smaller than the usual sungolds and bright orange as usual. They don't have the sweetness that normal sungolds have, and they have tough skins -- they taste like 'normal' meaty red tomatoes. Genetics is very interesting, I should spend more time looking into it someday...

Now that I have amused you with trivia both internal and external and maybe a little on the edges of nontrivia, I'll wander for a bit and go back to sleep. Take care.