Where the Grass Has Died
A little while ago I was talking to my friend Matt about a mutual friend of ours. I was asking how this friend was doing, because it always seemed like they were doing something EXCITING. Matt said, "I think [friend's name] always thinks they are happier where they are not. They always think the grass is greener somehwere else." I coughed and took a sip of lemonade and uttered, "Never heard of it."
Here's a pickle: what do you do when no matter where you are, the grass is always greener somewhere else? When I was living in Santa Cruz, California, I bemoaned how beautiful, yet dull it seemed. NOTHING WAS HAPPENING. I missed the east coast. I missed the seasons, the TEXTURE that a more urban life had given me. People didn't get SARCASM. A lot of people seemed to have ideas, but no OOOMF to do anything about it. So I was THRILLED to move to New York. Back to the east coast! Back to FALL and SNOW and CRAZY INTERESTING THINGS. Now here I am a year later, and there's that old thing creeping up on me again, uttering a very familiar thing: "I miss the West Coast. I'm bored here. I'm lonely. I'm sick of the crowds. I miss trees. I miss the Pacific ocean. Wouldn't it be better if I lived...etc. etc. etc."
I was walking in midtown, against the crush of pedestrian traffic, and I looked up and saw this building that I used to love to look up at. The side of it is decorated with silver stars. I looked at those stars and I thought to myself, "If you're not satisfied in the city that has the most options, mystery, history, potential, excitement, etc., etc., etc., than THE GRASS HAS DIED IN YOU and NOWHERE ELSE."
Even in my favorite time of year, in a location that emotes every fantasy I've ever had while watching a Woody Allen movie, IT'S NOT GOOD ENOUGH. I've grown WARY and the sparkles have all fallen off ALREADY. There is an active list of WHAT WORKS and WHAT DOESN'T. My voice has started to ring in that nasally tone, that is best described as WHINING. I've been watching it happen. I'm mentally leaving this place, for other greener pastures. I've never really just sat with this feeling before. Usually, when that BORED TO TEARS tone comes over me, I just go with it and then move across the country, or break up with my boyfriend, or play hard to get.
It's always so EXCITING when you arrive somewhere new. The possabilities are ENDLESS. The DREAMS are UNBRIDLED. The paint is STILL WET. It's very HOT, as NEW love affairs usually are. Then time passes and it becomes...normal. The horror!
I'm beginning to think that this may also be why it is often hard for me to finish projects. The idea is so exciting, but then somewhere it dies. I get bored. I get restless. A new idea comes to me that seems like a better idea. Again, the grass has died in me--it ain't where I've landed, but somehwere inside, where I think I need to replant, but instead, it just needs MORE TENDING TO.
I've said it a million times here before, but there are things I want to do in this world. To want to do them is a great beginning, but I'm discovering in order to SEE THEM THROUGH I might have to sit through the parts that seem "dull" or "boring". Natalie Goldberg sais that boredom is just "fear plus inertia" which for me is SO FRICKN' TRUE. What do I do when I get bored? I RUN. But this is it. This is all I get in this world, is today, right this second, and when it's gone, it's gone. Life can't always be a PARADE of confetti and roses, which isn't to say that it can't be good. It's to say that I must sit on the lawn I have planted, and dig further, and withstand the quiet that has come over me. There's discovery in that too.
Here's a pickle: what do you do when no matter where you are, the grass is always greener somewhere else? When I was living in Santa Cruz, California, I bemoaned how beautiful, yet dull it seemed. NOTHING WAS HAPPENING. I missed the east coast. I missed the seasons, the TEXTURE that a more urban life had given me. People didn't get SARCASM. A lot of people seemed to have ideas, but no OOOMF to do anything about it. So I was THRILLED to move to New York. Back to the east coast! Back to FALL and SNOW and CRAZY INTERESTING THINGS. Now here I am a year later, and there's that old thing creeping up on me again, uttering a very familiar thing: "I miss the West Coast. I'm bored here. I'm lonely. I'm sick of the crowds. I miss trees. I miss the Pacific ocean. Wouldn't it be better if I lived...etc. etc. etc."
I was walking in midtown, against the crush of pedestrian traffic, and I looked up and saw this building that I used to love to look up at. The side of it is decorated with silver stars. I looked at those stars and I thought to myself, "If you're not satisfied in the city that has the most options, mystery, history, potential, excitement, etc., etc., etc., than THE GRASS HAS DIED IN YOU and NOWHERE ELSE."
Even in my favorite time of year, in a location that emotes every fantasy I've ever had while watching a Woody Allen movie, IT'S NOT GOOD ENOUGH. I've grown WARY and the sparkles have all fallen off ALREADY. There is an active list of WHAT WORKS and WHAT DOESN'T. My voice has started to ring in that nasally tone, that is best described as WHINING. I've been watching it happen. I'm mentally leaving this place, for other greener pastures. I've never really just sat with this feeling before. Usually, when that BORED TO TEARS tone comes over me, I just go with it and then move across the country, or break up with my boyfriend, or play hard to get.
It's always so EXCITING when you arrive somewhere new. The possabilities are ENDLESS. The DREAMS are UNBRIDLED. The paint is STILL WET. It's very HOT, as NEW love affairs usually are. Then time passes and it becomes...normal. The horror!
I'm beginning to think that this may also be why it is often hard for me to finish projects. The idea is so exciting, but then somewhere it dies. I get bored. I get restless. A new idea comes to me that seems like a better idea. Again, the grass has died in me--it ain't where I've landed, but somehwere inside, where I think I need to replant, but instead, it just needs MORE TENDING TO.
I've said it a million times here before, but there are things I want to do in this world. To want to do them is a great beginning, but I'm discovering in order to SEE THEM THROUGH I might have to sit through the parts that seem "dull" or "boring". Natalie Goldberg sais that boredom is just "fear plus inertia" which for me is SO FRICKN' TRUE. What do I do when I get bored? I RUN. But this is it. This is all I get in this world, is today, right this second, and when it's gone, it's gone. Life can't always be a PARADE of confetti and roses, which isn't to say that it can't be good. It's to say that I must sit on the lawn I have planted, and dig further, and withstand the quiet that has come over me. There's discovery in that too.
posted by Summer Pierre at
11:08 AM
3 Comments:
summer, you have a way of writing and describing situations that amazes me, I am sitting here and I feel your hands come of out the computer and shake me around and sit me down in the chair again. I understand exactly what you mean about thinking life is more exiting somewhere else, hang in there, theres so many things to discover yet, and in NY! I am here in North Carolina!! I see grass 3 ft tall over at NY, it looks like a jungle from over here!
9 years ago, when I was 21, I saved up money, dumped my girl, and drove from Philadelphia to Alaska on my own. There was no "plan." I happened to end up in Alaska when the western road ended. The point of the trip was that I wanted to know if anything existed that could excite me without being in the company of others. It's called Pretty Sky Theory. It only looks good because someone else is there and you want it to be better than it is.
In the end, very little impressed or excited me. I drove 20k miles and found little. At least I learned that now for myself. Regret is the revenge of youth.
Yet, through all of this, your post evoked some feelings. I miss things when I'm not touching them and eventually loathe them when I'm with them again. Places are nothing without people to hold them up. I'll remember a tree in Alaska that I stood by some girl with before remembering, say, what the Grand Canyon looked like. It's all about the people.
antibland@gmail.com
Someone wise once said that the source of human suffering is desire. Desire for good things to last longer and bad things to pass more quickly. But it's also our NATURE to desire. How do you turn that off? And if you could turn it off, wouldn't that just leave you with no passion for anything? Maybe gratitude can help with this dilemma. They say it's possible to transcend suffering by accepting life just as it is without desire for anything being different. If anyone figures out how to do that let me know!
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