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Location: Midwest, United States

"Power lines, my travlin' partner on this ride. Dripping, pulling - up and down, in this sing song, their lullaby blends with the swaying train. I curl myself into this journey; folding myself up into this pocket of time. Old familiars greet me - that swing set in the back yard, the ruins of an old church covered in new birth and old - mixed with unremembered newness." Journal Entry, October 13, 2005~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~All words are copyrighted by GoGo on a Page/gogoroku.

Wednesday, June 06, 2007

another letter to my grandchildren

Dear Grandchildren,

I seem to be running from morning to night these days, getting many things done while wading through many more things still undone. I am learning. That is a theme strong and thick in my veins today. Some core part of me is learning to come out and not be afraid. That sounds ambiguous doesn’t it? Hmm.

I wish I had time to chronicle my last summer in this town. I have lived here for 6 years now. Wow! The edges to this place have blended into softened corners. I have met and learned from so many, seen many more things. Alas, time keeps me present in my days and by the end of them, I am ready to continue some other project rather then putting fingers to the keypad. I wrote you last year, trying to decide if I was moving onward from this town; I wanted to now follow up and find some insightful words to share as I transition onward toward London. It’s happening! I am moving. I guess. Little by little I am collecting myself and saying goodbye to all I have known of this town. Little by little I am preparing for my new journey, excited to step into this new unknown that I am sure will greet me with grace, as I become the familiar amongst the unfamiliar. I do wonder what that will look like. How does it feel to be the familiar among so much unfamiliar?

Damn, I write like a mystic.

I am also full of fear that I comfort on a continuous basis! No fear think! I’ll never leave if I let it get to me. If I allow myself to go down roads that fear opens, I will be lost. With that said, it’s hard not to think about being isolated in London and not knowing anyone. It’s hard not to wonder if I am just deciding to live a pauper’s life in the end after all. It’s hard not to wonder if my family will ever forgive me for going, and without them what does that make me? But, these wonderings are just misdirected wanderings I have no intention of treading.

I feel an enormous amount of comfort in writing letters to the future. It brings mindfulness to this spastic soul. I have no clue if “my grandchildren” will ever be, but I do know whether I have my own children or not, there will be grandchildren, and I’d like to think these words somehow will find their way to some future result that benefits.

With that, “grandchildren”, know your Nana is pushing forward, letting go of some very old fears, and finding my way towards you.

With Love,

Nana GoGo.



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