Shutter

Sleeping patterns are off as of late. Perhaps I have a lot on my mind and while the body is weary, the mind has its own agenda. 

Things come in and out of focus. I see myself watching the train speed by me in a blur. There is a sense of hopelessness that comes with that. It permeates the air and wraps around you like a blanket. Ice cold and unforgiving.

Maybe it's the change. The shock perhaps is finally manifesting itself in a slow and cruel manner. Whatever it is, it is beginning to weigh on me. It drains me mentally.

Sometimes, the things you think can get you by, abandon you. Your wits, resilience and sheer determination - weapons which carry not bullets, but rather familiarity - they lose their luster and become empty husks. Part of being human. At our most steadfast moment, we fear that there is no other peak to climb and we feel weak.  We drop our guard.

In these most unsettling of times, we look for shelter. We look to wait out the storm and recover. The soul needs a shot through the heart - a shot of inspiration, a long awaited rush of salvation, a recreation of events that ultimately saves us from crumbling. Us creatures of unusual flair, battle-ready and defiant to the very end - our hands sweat and our realities become distorted.

While the dimness grows, there is still light. And we chase that bright spot on the horizon until we can finally touch it, and we let it embrace us. The strangeness of it all, so distinct and tangible, eventually leaves. The lens finds its focus.  The door to the train opens and lets me in.

The Blur

Suspending belief for a second, it is undeniable that the change in location has brought with it slight alterations in the terrain. After all, spending 26 years in one place makes one see everything else as a different planet or dimension. I've now lived 2 weeks in North Carolina, and boy has the terrain changed.

I feel like the Mars rover, landing, viewing everything around me with a different camera lens. I rotate my head and I catch a glimpse of something new. I pick up glances, phrases, smells, and I analyze them as a robot would - carefully, inquisitively.

People ask me what it is like, and it is hard to explain in a few words. Perhaps I am still in a state of proverbial shock. Maybe it has not hit me yet that I am a stranger in a strange land. But the best reference I can come up with, is that it is like landing on a new planet.

There's a sense of tranquility that is found in every nook. Supermarkets, restaurants, highways, they all have what I can only refer to as 'the look'. That is the look of relaxation; of less weight on your shoulders. Smiles come by easier. 'Good mornings' and 'thank yous' are heard everywhere, like church bells. I don't suspect people in the state of North Carolina spend much time planning vacations to far off places looking for 'the look'. Why would they, they have it at their doorstep.

The profound civility and the absence of urgency is refreshing. I find myself much more relaxed, without needing to make myself relax. Work is work and it's always busy.  But that element of the heart-pounding rush to get things done, to get anything done, has been subdued.

I like it. Perhaps I'm jaded. And with time, the truth will come out. And I'll find out that the place is crawling with zombies and devils. The experiment continues. I've picked my blue in Tobacco Road, and Coach K will not like it. 

Oh and it rains like it would in a tropical place. Really friggin' hard.

I miss New England terribly. But for now, this is home. And yes it's 4:23 ET and I can't seem to get some much needed sleep... Stay tuned for more happenings from good ol' Cary!