Free Bird

"If I leave here tomorrow


Would you still remember me?

For I must be traveling on now

'Cause there's too many places I've got to see...



...And this bird you can not change.

Lord knows I can't change."



Allen Collins, Ronnie Van Zant











I was driving to work yesterday (thinking, thinking) and, blessedly, Lynyrd Skynyrd came on my radio. Wanderlust is tugging me, pushing me, sending me to places as yet unknown.



I'll give in to it. I always do. I haven't started collecting moving boxes - not yet. To put it off a bit, I have another E ticket in my inbox and a voucher that’s good until May of this year. That soothes me some. A little.



I wish I knew what it is I'm seeking. In the meantime, I'll crank up the volume and sing at the top of my lungs while I drive. Soothing comes in different ways on different days.





©Michelle Scofield, January 7, 2014, All Rights Reserved

Do the Questions Have Meaning?

3.1 miles  32:55  avg pace 10:37 min/mile   (Enough time to think)


There's nothing like an impending birthday to stir Existential Crisis.  Perhaps I'm exaggerating.  I did a little research on the definition of "existential crisis".   My situation is more Question than Crisis.  But there are hella lot of questions.  And I've had hella lot of time to think them up.  I've been driving miles and miles (cue The Who on your radio dial) to cover clinics while another PA has been vacationing.  When National Public Radio goes into the second cycle of the day's news, I turn my radio over to classic rock and thus: The Who.  And Boston.  And Kansas.  And Blue Oyster Cult.

And I start feeling kinda old and I remember I'm going to be 54 this weekend and what am I accomplishing, where am I going, why am I still single, do I want to stay in Houston...and wait just a minute!

I'm only going to be 53.  Why do I keep thinking I'm going to be 54?  (Time out to do a little math and confirm this.)

Yeah.  I'm going to be 53.  And why does this really matter?

Why does anything really matter.  Oh, hell.  Here I go again. 

"All we are is dust in the wind."  I first saw Kansas in (I think) 1975.  They're playing at The Arena in Houston on May 31st.  I may have to buy a ticket.  But will it be the same?  Will I be bummed out like I was when I saw Chicago 30 years after the first time I saw them?  Or like that time I saw Average White Band not so long ago and I only paid 9 bucks for my ticket and that's what it was worth?  After "Cut the Cake" there wasn't anything worth hearing.

*sigh*

I listen to these bands while I drive to a job to do the same thing that I did the day before and I'll do again tomorrow. 

And then:  I meet a new patient who tells me a funny story about New York City, or about music, or about his awesome kids.  The only reason he opens up is because I said something about New York City, or about music, or about my awesome kids.  I did it yesterday and I'll do it again tomorrow.

Kansas happens to be opening for Blue Oyster Cult on May 31st.  Some things really don't change.  I'm sure I saw both bands that same summer back in Wichita.  Would I go back?  To that summer?  To 15?  Will seeing Kansas make me feel 15 again?  Is it worth the price of a ticket?

Now that's a question.   I'll add it to my list and think about it on my drive tomorrow. 


©Michelle Scofield, March 12, 2013 All Rights Reserved

Letting myself run, letting myself write...

With no real plan and beautiful weather calling me, I let my feet take me where they wanted. I ran through River Oaks, winding through the manicured, mansioned-lined streets for an hour. It was just me and the gardeners and an occasional bee-stung woman in a Porsche - or some other car I'd never drive. I'm just not that good at the car thing.

Sidewalk repair forced me to be ginger at times, tip-toeing and stretching my stride, taking care not to trip on stray bricks as a xylophone played some tune I don't know through my MP3 player.  The song showed up on my playlist one day after I moved some music around, trying to learn how the device works.  That was months ago.  I've heard that song dozens of times and it sounds new each time.  I still don't really know how the player works, either.

Today the sun won the match fought with the winter chill.  Although it was only 48 degrees, it felt closer to 60 and it seemed as if spring was pulling at me to stay outside just a little longer.  I kept moving, not wanting to end my run.  I saw a robin, but she was laying dead on the sidewalk.  She looked colder than I felt.

Fatigue continues to be my running partner.  It's not overbearing, or overwhelming.  It runs next to me and when I kick off my shoes, it sits on the couch with me, asking if we can take a nap even before we take a shower. 

It feels as if this shroud will lift if I don't wrap it around me.  If I don't pull it close, it won't gain purchase.  I'll allow myself rest, but I won't allow myself complete surrender.  Yesterday I had a feeling that each day brings something extraordinary.  It was more of an enlightenment.  I think I'll go with that.

Sunday Six

Distance: 6 miles
Start time: 8:09 am
Run Duration: 68 minutes
Average Pace: 11.3 minutes/mile
Temperature: 62 degrees
Humidity: 92%
Location: Memorial Park, Houston, TX

I feel like I loafed it this morning. I wasn't exactly hustling as I made my way through my miles but as I give it more thought, I'm right where I should be. This is the pace I want to run for the half marathon. I'm on track. This is good.

My training schedule says I should run a 5K race next weekend. I thought I'd be bumping up to 7 miles, but that's not until the next week. Guess I'll go find a race. Or I'll just run 3.1 as fast as I can.

I am so grateful for these last 5 days off work. I needed it. I was so homesick, though. The holiday was wonderful with my friends but I miss my family incredibly. I'm happy that I was able to talk with them. It's just not the same. I'm packing up all my things, getting ready for this move. I think coming across a photo here, a trinket there is not helping my mood. I should probably get out of this apartment for a little while this afternoon and go for a change of scenery. I'm thinking of buying a running belt to hold my keys while I run. Maybe that will take up an hour or so.

Have a great week, readers. Hopefully all the leftovers have been eaten or otherwise disposed of. Anyone want to run a race with me next weekend?

Wednesday Soundtrack

Distance: 3.8 miles
Start time: 8:45 am
Run Duration: Don't know, left my watch on the vanity.
Pace: Felt good, never walked. :)
Temperature: 72 degrees
Humidity: 65%
Location: Hermann Park, Houston, TX

I slept in this morning. I mean I really slept in, until after 8:00. I don't work on Wednesday's, so that's not the problem. There really isn't a problem, but I wanted to take advantage of predictions of temperatures in the 60's and be at the park much earlier. I couldn't get to sleep last night and I stayed up late watching "Sex In The City", feeling quite lonely and morose. No wonder I slept so late. What a silly, girly thing to do.

By the time I hit the trail, NPR was almost done with news so I decided to shuffle my playlist on my MP3 player. What shuffle? It was mostly jazz and soul. I left it to run - as I ran. I remember the songs listed below. I know there were more.

Los Lonely Boys - "Heaven"
Suzi Stern - "My Man's Gone Now"
kd lang - "Fallen"
Staple Singers - "Let's Do It Again"
War - "Low Rider"
Charlotte Church - "The Water Is Wide"

Suzi's version of "My Man's Gone Now", from her "Lament" CD is amazing. She is such an artist and she paints images for me with her voice. This was the most difficult and special song for me to hear this morning. Many personal, close memories wrapped up in that one.

I need to get through this blue period. It's not sad, not deep blue, it's more like a gemstone in my Grandmother's jewelry box. It's rich and shimmers if I let it into the light. It's the color of my right-now-favorite dress. It's the color of the waters off Grand Cayman. It's that perfect teal that sits on the horizon and waits to be caught by our cameras, to be remembered forever, but it's not a place where we can linger for long because if we do we'll miss the rest of what's going on around us.

I run the trail to help me walk through my melancholic days. Memories flooded through me as I ran today. I am grateful for the ability to remember and all the events that came back to me today as I felt my feet connect with the earth. Today I lift up my connections and say, "Thank you, Father."

Melancholy

Lest anyone wonder if I'm still stretching my creative muscles. I am. I'm also using writing to work through some of the emotions I feel, to diffuse some of the stress I'm dealing with. Work was very difficult today. I'm also dealing with loneliness. It's true, it's true. I'll admit it. This too - as they say - will pass. I've just got to do the right thing, keep my faith and continue on my path toward being the best Michelle I can be.



Melancholy

My sister, Melancholy, tapped me on the shoulder today.
She broke apart the sweet length of ardor
I’d wound around me
and with one touch,
one slight press of she to me,
I felt my cloak of passion slip away.

Not chilled or shivered but absent fire,
lacking reason or desire,
I settled in to settle in.

She watches me from across the room.
Aware that her time with me is limited,
I see her eye me with disomic discord,
yet…
I am unable to show her the door.
Yet.
Michelle Scofield, September 1, 2009