there are aspects of our characters that do not change over time. they are fundamental.
i am very, very slowly coming to terms with this.
last fall, kara beautiful gold said a terribly profound thing (HERE): there's a very great freedom to be found in the fact that we are always us. i continue to find this both deeply reassuring and scary as hell.
i hate the fall. presumably, because i am always me, from here on out i always will. i hate the fall because- if you're not fortunate enough to be in academia and, therefore, be conveniently spared this problem- every year you're confronted anew with the fact that there is no semester, no summer break, no grading period, and thus, as lindear so aptly put it, "we are just here for MEH amount of time."
and meh amount of time sounds effing awful to me.
i hate fall and yet it's my favorite season. because the light is perfect. the clothes are beautiful. the pumpkin products are plentiful. and the air crackles with possibility and possibility is a lovely lovely thing. yet, on a level that i can never quite put a finger on or wrap words around, everything is still the same.
it isn't. rationally, i know that. but if you're an overly sentimental, longing, restless sort like me, come fall, you can almost convince yourself it is. you can almost overlook how nothing is as it was. how everything is utterly different. you might almost believe you've been standing still.
this is why, for running on 4 years, september is The Month Oline Is Never Home. because i do not like being still.
and yet, coming back from toronto- after having spent 17 of september's 30 days in other cities- i realized it maybe isn't so much a matter of needing to be busy as craving the consolation of coming home. that moment when stillness doesn't seem so bad, because i'm certain- for that one moment- that there's nowhere else i'd rather be.