Tonight I’m typing on the other side of the continent from where my day started. This morning I left the house and was struck by the sterile scent of the world below freezing, and felt my ears go numb on the walk to the subway. Tonight I’m wearing a t-shirt and typing in the pleasant cool night watching Orange County’s lights flicker orange and white in the distance, like the gentle lapping of some vast electric lake.
Travel is a constant force in my existence, to the degree that I don’t think I’d know how to cope if I were to go more than a season without setting foot in a new city. But I never take it for granted - that maddening, mundane and miraculous technology that allows me to cross a continent in the space of a few hours.
Travel is as much a matter of fact as it is a matter of thinking. If you allow it to happen, the process of traveling across distance and culture can have a transformative effect on your spirit. It brings into contrast how we cope with travel through time, and through our various states of being.
One year ago, on this night, my life changed in a way that wasn’t unexpected, but was jarring and painful all the same. This song by Gotye, Somebody That I Used To Know, showed up randomly on the Tumblr feed tonight, and speaks to that moment. It’s about a dissolved relationship, and I’ve been both people in this song. You probably have too. It’s something I first heard on the radio over the holidays and was struck by how true the damn song is. Listening to it tonight, on the other side of the continent from where I started this morning, I realize that I’m on the other side of a spiritual continent form where I was last year. It’s not a Hollywood ending, major overhaul sort of shift. It’s more like the difference between a sunset and a sunrise. I got here through travel of distances both external and internal. I think it’s wise to acknowledge, if not honor, those things.
I realize that as time passes, we can look back on our selves and realize that person who inhabited our skin in the days behind us is just as likely somebody that we used to know, as the people who’ve drifted from our lives. One year ago somebody that I loved became somebody I used to know. Today the person who lost that relationship is somebody I used to know as well. I would like to say that the person typing tonight is a better man than the person who was in this skin last year. And I hope that the person in this skin next year is better still.
(Source: scout, via bitch-cat)
