Life lost me. Perhaps somewhere in the woods between Langford and Lithuania. Perhaps before, in university course loads and career misdirections. It wasn't the first time, and I'm nearly certain it won't be the last. The quest to find Life is somehow more defining of a characteristic for me than is the life I live itself.
Don't think of me as unhealthy.
Think instead of a traveler who's quest to free himself from the bonds of self has set him apart and to the shores of Turkey, Iran, India and occasionally the flaccid hanging dong of North America known as "Florida".
Once I even lost Life while searching for it abroad. In the overpopulace of mainland China I both discovered and rediscovered the grail of me. But when it slipped from my hands I left again and the jetstream took me further south. I even brought a camera.
In South East Asia I drank and wrote myself on riverbanks and road edges. I glimpsed the past and what might be of the future. I felt again, the fibers that made my chest expand and my eyes focus. They were in there, sure. But they were deep somewhere. Layers of city grime and humanitarian guilt clogged them up.
So I met a girl.
I didn't want to meet a girl because sometimes I feel that it was meeting a girl that left me lost in the first place. But I met one anyway.
She was strong.
Hell, she was even tough, but I felt in her something muscular and fibrous and undeniable. Hell, her musculoskeletal self pulled me right out of my little quest to find me again in all the wrong places. She pulled me right opposite and like an elastic in a test faucility it snapped right back, bounced, split, reverberated and came to rest right where I was headed away from. And here, here where I was headed away from I sensed a presence that I hadn't in awhile:
Me was sitting there, deep inside an unconscious ignorance that I had been ignoring. Here was Me and Me was Here. Here was Me with Her and Her was showing Here how to fucking step aside and let Me be. Nice. I liked that.
So I put aside the fight to find what I was looking for and let the world slide by; somehow just like I had done before, just this time without the Syrias, Finlands or dangerous near encounters with Bin Ladens. Here was some kind of love. Love for me and love for her and though I couldn't explain or rationalise it I knew it.
Be with her because she was the moment. She was the now. And now she is the now and I drift unconscious through the space and time around her; observer of the world at large. The world that drifts through and around me. Life, the essence that the Skeksis tried to distill in the Dark Crystal is the stuff I'm drifting through now, again. No more searching, because in allowing her to be I've found the life around me. She is my current and I am her sailboat. Together, we're reaching land.