There is a general air of ‘nothing special’ as people mill about the car, taking their time sitting down. Suddenly, though nothing inside has changed, everything has changed – the train is moving. It began without a start, reminding me of the ever-odd sense of perspective in 1984, where they are now at war with whomever, and, therefore, have always been at war with that same whomever – the train is now moving so smoothly along, it feels as though it has always been moving, never having been stopped in the first place.
And, for some currently-unknown reason, I find myself looking out the window, listening to my wonderful Spanish music (Mexico), and crying. As in the case of my seeing Le Roi Lion (The Lion King) musical in Paris, I am suddenly overwhelmed with some emotion expressed with intense tears and a heavy tremble of breathing, deep in my chest. I don’t know what emotion this is, but something is saying to me, “It’s okay, honey. It’s okay,” and meaning it. Everything is all right, and I can be at ease.
That’s when I notice that I have a joint experience of joy and terror.
I have joy for the excitement of being on such a train. I am, after all, on a Shinkansen, one of the world-renowned bullet trains of Japan. Something I learned existed when I was a child, and never considered my ever having the opportunity to see, let alone having it becoming an easy weekend thing for me to ride on a whim. Being here, right now, on this train, is like I am living in the middle of the history I once studied in a book. Like when I wandered around Spain with my class, like it was no big deal, seeing the places where all of these people and things once were making history. I’ve been to so many places like that, I don’t even remember where all I have been. How crazy is that?! And here I am, doing just that sort of thing all over again. And like it’s no big deal – it’s just part of normal life. Insane. Joy. : )
But recall this terror, this fear that also finds itself within me as the train begins its southward journey. What is this terror? Why did someone inside have to tell me that things really were all right, when they seemed to be obviously so?
I think this ties into what I was considering last night about dreams and such, though it isn’t just that. I think I am somewhat afraid of living my life to the fullest on my own, because why would I want or need anyone else, if my life is already amazing solo? (By the way, this is huge for me right now.) If I am 100% content and delighted with my life, then why would I want anything to change? Why would I want someone else to come into it and to join me in all of my endeavors? It sounds silly to me, but I think it has some truth to it for me and how I live my life. I think I am terrified right now on this wonderful train experience, because I am not with my future partner (or anyone else of particular importance to me), yet this is still something amazing. It is as though a part of me was asking if it were okay to enjoy the experience, even though I’m all on my own. Even though this might always be something that stays shared with only ‘me, myself, and I’.
Is that why I was so afraid, so worried and concerned? I don’t know. But it feels more and more the case by the moment.
I have all of these absolutely amazing things in my life, happening all the time. Just take the fact that I am listening to this Spanish music for example. (As a side note, I found some old headphones!!) Much of why I live the artist is that I understand and can sing along to the songs. I can sing along, because I have studied in Spain, I have visited Mexico, and I have various ties to Spanish native speakers. And Spanish wasn’t even anything to do with my major in college or anything – it was just a sort of passive hobby for me, and it still is. Just one of the many amazing things that have happened and continue to happen in my life.
The thing about these amazing things is, they never seem to me to be much of anything special, abnormal. I’m not living in a hut in the middle of Africa, hunting baboons at night with spears and rocks, so my life isn’t really crazy or unique or anything special, right? I think I expect to be doing things closer and closer to that sort of life once I’ve found a partner to share in it all with me. But, until that time, I feel like my life is just a matter of this and thats, a feeling of ‘just hang on until your real life begins’ in the air.
Interesting, huh? : )