"You can't go back home to your family, back home to your childhood, back home to romantic love, back home to a young man's dreams of glory and of fame, back home to exile, to escape to Europe and some foreign land, back home to lyricism, to singing just for singing's sake, back home to aestheticism, to one's youthful idea of 'the artist' and the all-sufficiency of 'art' and 'beauty' and 'love,' back home to the ivory tower, back home to places in the country, to the cottage in Bermude, away from all the strife and conflict of the world, back home to the father you have lost and have been looking for, back home to someone who can help you, save you, ease the burden for you, back home to the old forms and systems of things which once seemed everlasting but which are changing all the time--back home to the escapes of Time and Memory."

- Thomas Wolfe
You Can't Go Home Again

Sunday, May 16, 2010

Rock Island (Part I)

I am trying to stay focused. Trying to endure the uncertainty of my life right now by continuing to write as I said I would everyday. It's difficult, but, really, it's all I can do right now to get my mind off of things...

I'm still trying to catch up with the last week or so. Not having my computer proved to be a real doozy, but I have it back and I'm ever so happy and I want to remain true to myself and write about my experiences here.

About a week or so ago I pulled myself out of my heartsickness and went with the boys for an outing. "We're going to a river tomorrow. You should come. There are waterfalls that you can jump off of." Ragmar, my kind friend, gently invited me. I did not leap to the occasion, though I would have if I was in a better frame of mind, but I pulled myself out of bed the next day and gathered my things for a daytrip to a river.

We drove for about an hour through the winding roads of Tennessee. The boys hated my music. My computer had crashed at that point and all I had were soulful R&B lamentations, a mix that Indigo Boy made me and a playlist I made him--all dreadful heartsick longings and protestations, nothing upbeat, nothing for a roadtrip among friends. "No wonder you're depressed!" they said. "We're gay boys. You need to change your playlist."

They put another mix into the stereo and it was good to hear other music as we wound through the green pastures and blue skies. My blue-haired faery guide sat next to me in the backseat and asked whether I had boots. I thought he would say, "You know... boots. These boots are made for walking"... thinking of the Nancy Sinatra song, but he was being practical. "You should find some boots. To walk through the woods." We talked about this for awhile, my feet being so small and not having a real sturdy pair of shoes to go traipsing through the woods, but I knew I could manage otherwise and told him that I had jeans and comfortable shoes. My metallic gold Clarks have proven to go a long way here.

I am not going to prolong my every recollection of what happened that day. My heart is heavy still and I just need to write about what I experienced that day and how great and liberating it was. So I am going to write from my journal that day:

7 May 2010

I came with Ragmar to Rock Island and spent the afternoon with the boys, hiking down to the falls and trekking through and across this great plateau of trees and rock and water. As we got closer to the water, Ragmar commented, "I've never seen the water this high." The water rushed through chiseled slabs of stone and filled the ravine with the sound of gushing force.

For awhile, we were the only ones here, then I noticed a beautiful young couple across the river. They were both in their twenties--the girl wore a black swimsuit, demure because it looked like a one-piece from the front, sexy because it looked like a bikini from the back. They were both long-legged and White. Stylish, beautiful even from 200 feet away.

The water is so strong--it's the only thing you can hear in the ravine. I became afraid when I saw another group of young people--teenagers maybe--studying the water to see where they should jump in. One girl, a little heavyset but strong, finally jumped in and laughed and smiled as she was gently carried off by the current. She was having a great time, but I had to divert my eyes because I was afraid she'd be swept away. She was fine.

[Later...]

I had the most amazing adventure today! After I wrote that little entry (as I wrote in the shade of a little ledge--just big enough and flat enough for me to lie down, did yoga and stretched in the sun and took a shower in a drizzle of water cascading from a rock above), the boys decided to pack up and head upstream. We climbed up and around great big boulders for at least 150-200 yards, then rockclimbed single file across a slippery ledge half-submerged in the water. I had to take off my shoes and reach for grooves in the mossy rock to help pull me along. Finally, we made it to a little clearing where the water pooled and the current seemed weaker. Waterfalls gushed across a ridge of rock and boulders, making it difficult to hear anyone speak. Most of the boys had already climbed up and around the waterfalls to the other side of the river. Ragmar waved at me. He had led the pack to the clearing and left me straggling behind. I wondered whether he was quietly challenging me to test myself or to stay open to the possibilities--he does that sometimes. Now I had to figure out how I was going to get to the other side.

I could either swim or try to navigate the slippery rocks again and go above the waterfalls. One of the boys jumped in and swam across. I watched as the boys dropped like flies into the water and navigated the current. I started feeling a little panicky. My blue-haired faery swam across and then stood in the water in front of me shivering as I slowly took off my sarong and undershirt and carefully draped them on a rock. I lowered myself slowly into the cool water, trying to find solid flat rock to stand on and keep my balance.

"It's too cold over here," my blue-haired faery said.

It was around 3:00--the sun was beginning to descend from the sky and the side we were on was cast in the shade of the great stone mountain we hiked down. Ragmar and the rest of the boys on the other side of the river stood in the sunshine. My blue-haried faery jumped in. I faltered a moment, backtracked a bit and then dove.

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