a wandering woman writes

Saturday, September 24, 2005

The In-Between

I love the in-between.

I love the excitement of change, of being on a journey, somewhere between here and gone.

Once again, I find myself in transition and loving every uncertain minute of it. I'm in a work transition, exploring how I might combine 2 passions - living in Spain and working for myself. I'm just coming out of a few uncertain months of bureaucratic limbo, waiting for Spain's stamp-wielding funcionarios to renew my residency. And now I'm soaking up my favorite time of year - a slow, warm Indian summer with chilly fall mornings and the just-installed blue plastic pool cover outside my door reminding me every day that winter's on its way.

Something is over, I think, and something else is about to begin. That's it.

I don't know that I'll be leaving Salamanca, but, still, I walk la Rua slowly these days, drinking in every sound, every smell, every familiar scene, waving at the usual faces. I wonder, am I leaving?

And OK, it shouldn't have taken 42 years to figure this out, but I suddenly understand my passion for travel. And sailboats. I simply love the in-between. I love the train trip more than the arrival, the wandering lost more than the finally being found. I love the sail enough to feel my heart sink as the next dock crawls into sight. I remember my disappointment the first time I sailed in a small lake, somewhere in Texas, with a college almost-boyfriend who desperately wanted to impress me. I was mortified, spoiled coastal child that I was. I could see the other side! I hate seeing shore. There's something about the water in between , the journey in between, the not quite knowing where I am headed or when I will get there that turns me on.

And feels like home.
Somewhere between here and gone.

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  • I can understand you. I have moved from one place to another some times, something that has made the company I use to move my stuff very happy.

    It's been quite a long time since I moved for the last time. I'm happy where I am, but sometimes I miss the excitement of starting in a new place all over again.

    By Anonymous Alex, at 9:46 AM  

  • Yeh, Alex, I sometimes worry about my love for the new, blank page. I'm glad to know someone shares it! So many people I know cringe at change.

    I don't know that I am going to move geographically just yet but I do have that excited feeling that I am moving on....

    Thanks for sticking by me despite my disappearing for a week, btw.

    By Blogger wandering-woman, at 1:26 PM  

  • Hey, Erin. Thanks for your posts at my site. I started to answer you there, but after reading this post...had to come her to say how beautifully written this is. It makes sense to me. Not that I am like that, but that you express yourself so well that I feel and understand that wandering-woman is a not a disclaimer, but an affirmation. I get it.

    I, on the other hand, am a nestor and a shore bird. I love the long view and a horizon that is far-far away and a huge sky, but I want to see it from my own deck or window. I love seeing new things and going places. But however wonderful the trip might be, my best day is the one when I get home.

    I'll be back to see you again. Your story is intriguing and your writing style is excellent. Meanwhile, bon voyage.
    Kate :)

    By Blogger Kate Winner, at 4:21 PM  

  • Wow Erin - I LOVE the in-between too! I didn't know that - totally new information - I have to sit on this for a while - Be well! Terri

    By Anonymous Terri, at 8:03 PM  

  • I think the meaning of travelling is to feel this sensation of "out of time". It makes life more enjoyable and makes me realise every second. Being a time limited journey, it remembers me how time can be used to discover and appreciate special moments. As if those moments are real life.

    By Anonymous Anonymous, at 8:47 PM  

  • Oh, Anon, but they are real life! Don´t tell me they aren´t...I am not listening..I am not listening.

    they ARE :-)

    By Blogger wandering-woman, at 9:46 PM  

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