I’m corresponding with an author who moved her entire family to New Zealand. On an adventure whim. For five years.
I want my life to be like that, open to whatever wind blows. But, being an American means student loan debt and cell phone contracts and car payments. Westerners require so much – stuff – to maintain their standards. We lose so much by carrying so much. We’d lose so little by jettisoning just a little.
I remember my purses in Scotland – I practically carried luggage those first few months, trying so hard to have something on hand to ensure my every need was met. By the time we left, I could leave the house carrying only a book and a set of keys. I want to be that much thistledown, to be blown through various lanes of life without concern.
But, there are still too many things that hold us.
static
thicker than water,
blood feeds the confining moss
that traps this stone’s roll.
man hands on misery to man
a six letter word
describing two-point-five kids
and a picket fence#10 envelopes
sallie mae, nosy
as a meddling auntie
stop with all the mail
on shedding the fifty pound purse
not
knowing
where, today,
we sit, but still
finding, just behind
us, those backsides
still attached.
One need:
met.