Thursday, August 20, 2009

Do Not Drop

I am feeling restless lately. Have for several days. I want to write and can’t seem to string two coherent sentences together. I have volumes to say AND absolutely nothing at all. Life feels full with lots to do AND I have spaciousness that sits like a parched gully waiting for the rain to fill. I feel edgy and restless. I have tried everything. (My inner monk says, “Stop trying.”) Meeting with friends. Taking naps. Walks. Yesterday I danced. Now, that was fun and cool and removed the restlessness for awhile (and I hope to come back and write that little story ☺.) But for now…

Today would have been my father’s 90th birthday. Happy Birthday, Daddy! He was a long-distance truck driver and I believe had a bit of the wanderlust in him. Last year at this time I took off on my “Baby Road Trip.” I have felt the same call recently, but cannot quite bring myself to do it. It is so odd. I don’t feel blue or sad or empty or any of those other things. I just feel restless. I wonder if that is how my dad felt? I wonder if this is the time of year where I sense his presence stronger and somehow inhabit his restlessness. I imagine that might sound a little kooky to some of you. I’m not talking about channeling my father like a Whoopie Goldberg impersonation from “Ghost.” I am referring to an embodied sense. His blood flows through my veins. Perhaps he had DNA that drove him to hit the road and that DNA stirs up in me around his birthday which also happens to be a few short weeks before the anniversary of his death – September 12.

Who knows? Maybe it’s all in my head, but you know what? I don’t think that’s totally it. It didn’t even dawn on me that any of this was happening until I was out for a jog a couple of days ago with my i-Pod shuffling away and Jimmy Buffett’s song, Big Rig*, came on. I stopped in my tracks and had another “moment” with my dad. Crazy? I don’t think so. Connected? Restless? Present? You bet.

Like I said, I am having trouble stringing two coherent sentences together, but it still felt important to put this out there for myself and for my dad – and maybe even for you? Do you ever feel sensations like restlessness or grief or something that you can’t quite put your finger on? Have you experienced “anniversary dates” in your body before they popped into your mind? Have you ever thought about something like this?

*"I wish I was a big rig
Rollin' on home to you
I wish I was a big rig
A big rig baby
Rollin' on home to you"
--Jimmy Buffett
"Do Not Drop" - lucy, late 1960's

12 comments:

Hope said...

Today is my dad's birthday. He turned 79.
My husband used to be a truck driver. He has that wanderlust in him. I still miss being in a big truck with him. I do like having him home though.

Sitting with restlessness is hard. Peace to you today.

tinkerbell the bipolar faery said...

Yes. October is the month in which we lost our son, 11 years ago; he was 9. It is also the month of his birth. Each October I feel possessed by an insane sort of longing, restless grief. It's the same each October.

What do I do to unleash the stuff that's inside me, during those Octobers? I walk ... it's therapeutic to feel the comfort of nature all around me.

tinkerbell the bipolar faery said...

... our youngest son ...

kigen said...

Lucy, I am surely older than thee, but my mom and your dad were born the same year about a month apart. Nice to think our parents were contemporaries, and btw, nice muscle definition! ((-:

Kel said...

hmmm, how do you sit with restlessnes?

perhaps your intuitive response to dance was a positive way to embrace and channel the energy

sounds like you had a good relationship with your dad

lucy said...

hope--kind of cool that our dads have the same birth date. it's also john hiatt's (one of my favorite singers) birthday...as well as a few other people :-)

oh, tinkerbell--your son was born the same year as mine. i can only imagine the grief that visits each october and other times in between. thank you for sharing this with me. peace be with you.

kigen--my mother was considered quite old when she had me - 35 - a year younger than i was when i had my daughter. the photo is a witness to my weightlifting abilities :-)

kel--is that a rhetorical question? dancing and driving seem to be the two best releases for my restlessness. i am still defining what my relationship was with my dad even though he has been dead nearly 34 years. "good" is probably as good a descriptor as any :-)

Abbey of the Arts said...

oh lucy, I am feeling so many of the same things as you right now. My father's birthday is one week from today, he would have been 77. Mine isn't so much a restlessness as a well of grief that rises up and submerges me for a while. I feel like I have trouble taking a deep breath. I can totally relate to that feeling of " I have volumes to say AND absolutely nothing at all." I keep struggling with how to articulate what is moving in me so I am very grateful today for your words that help me to do that. Love you friend, C

Abbey of the Arts said...

I also wanted to say that YES to this:

"I wonder if this is the time of year where I sense his presence stronger and somehow inhabit his restlessness. . . I am referring to an embodied sense. His blood flows through my veins. Perhaps he had DNA that drove him to hit the road and that DNA stirs up in me around his birthday which also happens to be a few short weeks before the anniversary of his death – September 12."

Kate Iredale said...

Lucy, I too can relate to the "volumes to say and absolutley nothing at all". I was thinking of this yesterday as I sat down to write a post and just sat there for ages. It feels like there is so much going on internally for me (for the past year or two) and not all of it that I want to share quite so publicly. I also think that I just live too much in my head!!

And yes, I can also identify with the restless feelings of loss that you speak of...they bubble up for me around the anniversay of my mother's death.

SUNRISE SISTER said...

A beautiful post and lovely responses from your wonderful readers. I "felt" their stories and was so happy that they shared such heartfelt stories here.

xoxox

Brett said...

I can relate. Im discovering my body to be a wonderful playground for all kinds of intangibles. This is a new thing for me as i've spent much of my life not on speaking terms with my corporeal shell. I've had a tendency to ignore the subtle nuances of feelings within me often necessitating the escalation of emotion to the level of bludgeoning. Not a good way of dealing. I'm realizing that while i love my emotions i have also been very afraid of them. And i have tended to stuff them and disconnect from them.

Now im finding they have never been anything but my friends. Even my deepest sadnesses are revealed to be anything but sad if I'm willing to discover what lies beneath them. I have been awestruck sitting with my grief, feeling the pain and asking, "what if this is not pain? What if it's love?" It can be hard to go there, but i can almost always find it. And the result is simply Incredible...

lucy said...

C--so blessed to travel through these passages together. even though we must each do the work on our own, it is comforting to know others are walking alongside us. xoxoxo

kate i--it is a fine balance between sharing the internal journey and/or holding it in. it can also be that articulation from feelings into words - not always an easy transition to make.

SS--thanks. it seems like your dads birthday is around the same time perhaps.

brett--making friends with our feelings and emotions is life-giving work! keep up the good work.