Tuesday, January 05, 2010

Mad On An Island...






Sometimes I think about those people pushing and shoving their way to work, hopping on a Tokyo train or queuing up in an airport security line for a business trip...

I think about the commuters heading into LA or San Francisco, bumper to bumper and all mostly bored, the world outside their car windows giant curtains of cinder block and the shiny sides of truck trailers...

And I think, "It's nice here in Selma. We've got the trees to keep things quiet, the cemetery to keep things in perspective, and the lake to keep things visually interesting- as it is always changing its display."

I think about the leash laws where I come from and the little bags one must carry to clean up after evacuating dogs.

Not here in Selma. It's a great place to poop for a dog here in Selma. The landscape is big enough to absorb the little piles and to use them quickly as resources.

Here in Selma, even a dog poop is a welcome addition to a rural, almost monastic existence...

So I'm surprised when I want to get the hell out. I mean, when I start climbing the walls inside my head and the ruggedness and the wildness all fade into a bland, washed out water-color that I'm trapped inside of.

A holiday season where nobody I knew remained, an anniversary of a dead sister, a bleak and foggy and horrendously cold weather pattern inducing aches and pains in old injuries and bringing out the murderous crows who mock the world I live in with their cackling cries...

One day I woke up and I felt like that skinny dude trapped on his little breast-hump of an island, his hair long and shaggy, his beard long and tangled, a pair of once-pressed slacks now worn like ragged shorts over stick-like legs...

There's a singular coconut tree with a solitary coconut suspended from the core of its leafy top, and little room for the man who stands at the water's edge and looks seaward through dark and haggard eyes...

Oh yes, that's the New Year's me drawn in cartoon fashion. I'm that guy. The one who enjoyed the island life and the solitude when he first arrived. No more hassles of urban life. No more noise and drama...

But now...

...now...

...beneath the image, the caption reads, "I LIVE ON A FUCKING ISLAND!!"

(And the trouble is, at this point in the scenario, there is nothing this poor sot can do to save himself without looking desperate and a bit crazy. Jumping up and down as people go about their lives on other shores- from their vantage point- looks simply mad. Putting up signs all over the island declaring my confined status and solitude not only comes across as desperate (and a little crazy) but there IS a boat sitting moored and all gassed up and ready for my use.

People who read the signs will just think "But you have a boat,"

"Ah yes," I'd say. I have a boat. But inside that boat I have an old and sickly mother who is sleeping. I cannot use the boat to get off of this island without putting her at some risk. Now what smarty pants?")

And so it is for now until something changes...

6 comments:

Jeannie said...

You are more eloquent in your trappedness than I.

The trouble occurs when we love our burdens.

You have been a fortunate man - one that has had a number of adventures. Unfortunately, memories of such adventures rarely satisfy the longing to see more and different. I think it really makes the desire stronger.

Is it possible to hire in a caregiver for a week or two? Perhap a VON to help with bathing and physio (if she needs help) and/or someone to come in to help with meals and cleaning up? Could your brother maybe visit again to give you time away?

fairyhedgehog said...

Beautifully written but I'm sorry you feel so trapped.

I hope you manage to find ways to feel untrapped soon.

Bernita said...

I know.
Sometimes it's not so much you want to go, but that you can't. And you're so tired.

Shrinky said...

Oh Scott, I truly do understand. It often get clostraphobic at times, doesn't it? Living on a tiny island is living the dream, we know this, yeah? But also living there as a loved-one's caretaker can sometimes box you in - the world shrinks, and horizons easily disappear.

All things pass, especially our moods, the sun shines again and joy is still there, she's ust having a snooze for now (hugs).

I love the photography you choose to illustrate this post, it's very apt.

Cheesy said...

Sounds like it's time for a puppy trip to wide open beaches...

kario said...

Here's hoping you find a way to explore life off the island and it only reminds you what you love about home the most...