As a 22 year old, after a
medical procedure, I traveled in an old bumpy Fiat with my lover to New
Brunswick, and then far out by tiny motor boat, to a tiny isolated island ,
where I unhappily and promptly ran out of cigarettes and almost perished of
boredom when all my friends spent all their time drinking Scotch and playing
backgammon.
Bored to tears, somehow without requisite reams of reading materials or drawing materials or camera, on a wildly windy day, I left the cabin pissed off, popped on a lifejacket, dragged an old canoe into the waters, and took off.
I weighed maybe 120 at the time , and mysteriously enough, the heavy ancient thing took off in the wind, skimming sideways across the water, slamming into one tiny outcropping after another . I'd of course never been in a canoe , and struggled with the oars, promptly losing one.
Even if I had yelled , no one would have heard me over the winds . So I did what we do when we've made ridiculous inestimable mistakes .
I tracked a plan of the small bits of land I'd need to get to in order to leap frog my way back, the way you do on perilous icy nights on the road , touching base with your car tires on the small dry places that still give traction, in order to get on home.
A few hours later, I was safely on land once again, dragged the big old thing up onto the shore, struggled back into the cabin, and fell into bed til the next day.
Sometimes in ensuing years, difficult times seem just like that . It sometimes seems as if I won't be able to come round with the unwieldy self I have, won't be able to avoid capsizing ( do canoes capsize?) and I'll certainly be a goner . I fear I certainly won't have what it takes to find a tenable path back to land and sustenance and a chance at survival into a reasonable life.
Which is why, though you would never wish others to do questionable things with terrible judgement , still, like an actor or artist, we use what we have.
We make use of the victories we've managed, no matter the circumstance , to let ourselves know that in actuality, sometimes, we are capable of great and powerful saves.
Bored to tears, somehow without requisite reams of reading materials or drawing materials or camera, on a wildly windy day, I left the cabin pissed off, popped on a lifejacket, dragged an old canoe into the waters, and took off.
I weighed maybe 120 at the time , and mysteriously enough, the heavy ancient thing took off in the wind, skimming sideways across the water, slamming into one tiny outcropping after another . I'd of course never been in a canoe , and struggled with the oars, promptly losing one.
Even if I had yelled , no one would have heard me over the winds . So I did what we do when we've made ridiculous inestimable mistakes .
I tracked a plan of the small bits of land I'd need to get to in order to leap frog my way back, the way you do on perilous icy nights on the road , touching base with your car tires on the small dry places that still give traction, in order to get on home.
A few hours later, I was safely on land once again, dragged the big old thing up onto the shore, struggled back into the cabin, and fell into bed til the next day.
Sometimes in ensuing years, difficult times seem just like that . It sometimes seems as if I won't be able to come round with the unwieldy self I have, won't be able to avoid capsizing ( do canoes capsize?) and I'll certainly be a goner . I fear I certainly won't have what it takes to find a tenable path back to land and sustenance and a chance at survival into a reasonable life.
Which is why, though you would never wish others to do questionable things with terrible judgement , still, like an actor or artist, we use what we have.
We make use of the victories we've managed, no matter the circumstance , to let ourselves know that in actuality, sometimes, we are capable of great and powerful saves.
No comments:
Post a Comment