Tag Archives: separation

I Don’t Fit the Box

Running, I am slow. After moving to a new region, I find I am slower still. New surroundings, more road, still adjusting.

I miss my home.

To be sure, there are wonderful things about this move.

I have my family, including two dogs, for whom this move was made. I have neighbors who all seem to be terrific people. I once again have a yard to putter around in. The area around my home is also very pretty.


There is no wild.

My spaces are limited; tamed trails trapped by property and roadways, with nothing to fear except humans, whom I rarely encountered before. Oddly, I fear them more than wild dogs, rock slides, and boar (can you blame me?).

Without the element of wild, there’s a beauty missing.

I don’t feel I belong here. I am trying but I do not yet feel connected.

The same goes for my professional life.

There, in my former home, I was connected. It was hard work: intellectually, emotionally, and sometimes even physically challenging. 

My life’s history had meaning there. People saw it and connected.

Here, people see the history and don’t connect. They can’t fit me into the right boxes.

Overqualified here, title not quite right there. Certified, yes, but not exactly in this state’s way or with that exact stamp.

Interviews happen with comments like “Impressive,” and “Well, you certainly have a lot of experience.” These, I have come to realize, are code for “You don’t fit.”

Perhaps the only box I fit is the one labeled “Other”?

Maybe so. Maybe so.

The loss I feel…

The loss, I feel…

…is theirs.

(as you may have guessed, I’ve moved. Same country, new continent. It has not yet been a month.)


Upon Departing

I dreamt I was running in the forest, in a deep, secret ravine, beautiful and quiet. There was only the sound of the crunching and shooshing of leaves that had long since fallen to the earth, cushioning my path.

Images of friends began to emerge from behind trees – long ago friends as well as new. There were many I saw, but only a few stepped out far enough to cause me to slow and walk a while. They had changed; I had changed. We talked about our different paths but, more importantly, we expressed the depth of the bonds we knew we had with each other, bonds which we could not explain but still knew were there.

Later, I was called away from the forest to a great hall. There was a party — a gathering of these same people. This time, we met in small groups, sharing stories and talking of our lives now. Every so often, I would catch the eye of one friend or another, and the connection and energy felt in the depth of that look between us was palpable.

Soon, I became overwhelmed by the sense of these bonds. I was leaving them, perhaps forever. The time I had experienced with certain individuals was too short, and to leave them now felt like having an umbilical cord severed from my gut. It hurt. I was dripping life-blood and energy.

I retired to a small alcove off the gathering hall, flowing tears and heaving sobs of grief. One by one, those individuals came to me, and we expressed once more those bonds we knew existed. They were grateful, as was I, to have this moment to share what we deeply felt and knew to be true. As each one came, the dream faded, and I awoke.

The funny thing is, many of the people with whom these bonds existed were people I barely knew, or knew only briefly.

Our lives had touched in only the tiniest of ways, it seems, but the moments – they moved my soul forever.