I drove out to G’s place in Simi Valley and as I rode along the 118 freeway I stared at the hills and remembered. I am choosing not to share these thoughts here with you, not today and perhaps not ever, but I mention it because the hills drove me.
The outdoors drives me in a way that I cannot express. I am touched by nature in a way that stimulates the most amazing feeling. There are times in which I have climbed the hills and stretched out upon the rock and bathed in the sunlight. I have lain there and felt the song of the earth and known without a doubt that I am a part of it all.
I have stared at the moon in the Judean Desert, the Sierras, the Georgian Bay, Ensenada, New York, San Francisco, Las Vegas, Phoenix and so many other places and each time I marveled at the thought that somewhere far away from me yet so close there was someone else sharing the moon.
Many years ago beneath a spotless Yosemite sky I had one of the more intimate moments of my life. I shared a hug with a girl. It was spontaneous and nothing more than a hug, but it was a moment that we both remember, at least I do and I suspect so does she. I don’t remember her name or where she was from and I never saw her again, but it was something special. But it wasn’t because of her or I, it was the moon and the sky.
It was a the crispness of the night, the feeling of silence and the knowledge that there was so much life in the woods that if we could actually hear the heartbeats of those around us we would be deafened.
Once while walking to the Kotel on a Friday night I was overcome with emotion. I was in the Jewish Quarter and quickly approaching the plaza when I heard a buzz that became a roar. It was the sound of hundred of thousands of prayers and it made me stop in my tracks. I fought to compose myself because the realization of what I was hearing paralyzed me. For a moment I felt like a grain of sand on the beach and I wondered if my voice could possibly be heard.
There are other moments like this that stop time and imprint themselves upon me. I have modest skills at expressing my thoughts and feelings but times like this are beyond me. These moments strike me, stab me and fill me with something amazing.
Yesterday my daughter and I had a moment like that. She toddled over to my side and raised her hands, a plaintive expression begging me to pick her up. I kissed her foreheard and stroked her hair. “
“Little one, you are tired, rest your kepie on my shoulder and I promise to keep you safe.”
She smiled and lay her head down upon me and slept and for a brief moment time stood still. There was so much love inside me that I knew that it was an effort not to cry.
Soon, very soon I shall need to go and recharge my batteries in some of my favorite haunts. The time is coming where I will be forced to go and wander because I am he who cannot hold still. The wanderlust comes upon me and I am compelled to follow it. I am an insider and and outsider.
If you forgive the Tolkienesque approach I think that my doom is to be perpetually restless. I can feel settled for short periods of time but then the feelings come and answer them I must.