Cut and Run

Sometimes life seems very complicated: life's meaning, relationships, career, marriage. We all really just slog along in life, taking one thing at a time. But how many people do you know who are really happy and content in all these areas of life and can clearly articulate each of these entities?

This afternoon I walked miles while my mind roiled over the complexities of life. My friend calls these kinds of thoughts "snail thoughts" because the thoughts seem to spiral down (for her) like a snail's shell. I've always laughed about that. My thoughts today were more like lightning: I'd get a thought and it would jag off across the landscape of my mind in unpredictable ways, only to disappear just as my eyes focused on it. Yes, lightning thoughts.

There are times when staying at a difficult thing is such tremendous work. Sometimes I wonder if it wouldn't be more efficient to cut and run, rather than to expend endless energy with negligible return, wearing myself out trying to accomplish the undoable. I plodded along today, feeling miserable but unable to fully understand the crux of my misery. I said and did bad things today. I walked with looming questions about how to bridge differences, but I wasn't sure I was thinking very clearly. I just wanted to run away.

Where would I go? Heurbemont, probably. It is the most charming little town in France. I don't speak French, but it would be so romantic and adventurous to go there and live in a little upstairs flat in an old manor in the country. I would have my croissants and real butter every morning after my walk down to the patisserie. It would all be so grand to greet men with an expansive "Buon jour, monsieur!" and feel their appreciative glances as I passed. I would wear beautiful silk scarves around my neck, with my A-line skirt, sweater, and heels, just like French women do. I would sit out on the boulevard at a cafe and enjoy a coffee while I read an absorbing book. All alone.

But I am wearing jeans, tired sneakers, and a bright red, very American jacket as I walk along down the street toward home. As I round the corner near the house, I can see Sam in the kitchen, looking out the window for me. I really do need to apologize to him for my actions that sent me out on this lightning streak across town. He greets me with open arms. Burying his face in my neck he tells me how much he loves me and how sorry he is for what he did. The moisture on my cheeks and the light in his eyes tell me that there are far better things to be had with this man whom I love with all my heart, than running.