Yesterday, after feeling whiny and sluggish in the morning, I shook off the twin shackles of indecision and procrastination and got going. I re-checked in to my hotel. As I suspected it would, it took them a while to figure it out. I went for a run along the marina. I drove out to Larkspur where I went on a hike.
Almost immediately after the run, walking back in the sunshine and listening to music, all of the earlier emotional funkiness had worn off. I’m sure there were some endorphins from the run, but sunshine does wonders for my disposition. Back at the hotel, I felt… invigorated, motivated, productive? I looked for jobs, I looked for new apartments, I made a list of the apartments I’ve liked so far and where I am in the process. I bought a transponder so I can travel across the bridges. I began to think more positively about the doors that will open up once I have a more permanent space (volunteering in that neighborhood, finding “my” local market and bar and coffee shop, local jobs I might consider until I find something more in my field). I have a few things that I’m itching to get involved in, but am waiting to do so until I’m a bit more settled. I plan on seeing if I can get involved with the local blues society. I also want to reach out to a poet I know and had taken a workshop with – he lives in Oakland. I suppose could do those things now, but I’m trying to be focused on a few things and not jump into everything at once – lest I get overwhelmed.
I can remember the mental drain I felt for the first month after moving to Memphis. I was excited and exhausted on a regular basis. When everything is new, my brain (like most people’s) is in constant decision-making mode. It’s processing everything and nothing is automatic or routine. Being a novice requires attention. For two full months, I’ve been in novice mode, driving around the country and exploring. In some respects, it’s a little like the honeymoon phase of falling in love. It’s a form of reinvention and reflection that requires space to process. I’m thankful to have a temporary base of operations here at the hotel, and I’m really thankful for the time to run, hike, explore, and figure things out. I could probably be more graceful and understanding with myself when the sluggishness sets in.
Last night (after the hike), I kept things simple: two slices of pizza and a walk around the neighborhood. It was one of the few nights in the past two months when I wasn’t at a bar. I like the semi-social aspect of bars, but beer, wine, and bar food can get old and expensive after a while.
This morning, I ate pie for breakfast. The women I met up with for the hike brought a gift for me (some leftover apple pie and pumpkin pie). I had shared with her through text how pleasantly surprised I was by both the crowd and the food at Mel’s Drive-In on Thanksgiving. When all you’ve known for Thanksgiving has been a meal with family, you don’t realize there are lots and lots of people who do other things (like go out to eat) on Thanksgiving. The pie was a thoughtful and a nice follow-up gesture that I deeply appreciated (both in the moment and again this morning as I ate it). It and the coffee were pleasantly slow ways of greeting the day as I worked on some the poems/notes I’ve written these past few weeks. I’ll probably go for another run this morning, and in the afternoon, I’ll look at another apartment. The need to be out exploring seems to be waning but I’m still heavily favoring stimulation over rest and reflection. This sunshine is so tempting.