A Tale of Two Cities

What is it about new cities that makes things a little clearer? I think it is the feeling of freshness--of everything being new, a little exciting, kind of scary and very anonymous. An ability to reinvent who you are, even for a few days, in a place where no one knows your day to day routines and habits, habitual haunts or skeletons that peek out from your closet. The feeling of being lost and found all at the same time.

I was in Chicago this past week. Ostensibly for work but secretly to see if this change of scenery would suit me. Moving from the shores of the Potomac to those of Lake Michigan in an attempt to find an answer to a question that I am not sure I can even articulate now. Driving in from the airport to a skyline dotted with daunting buildings rather than low lying monuments, on streets that were dominated by cabs rather than personal cars, in an office on the 39th floor gazing down at the boats on the lake, Indiana in the distance, picnic blankets on the amphitheatre rather than looking from the 12th floor onto the home of the President.

I am at the point where I think I need to shake things up, make a change in my life. I have been searching for something not only the past 2 months, but since embarking on this journey of law school as well. And I think in every journey, whether it is to the grocery store, through grad school, wandering through the abyss of dating, or meandering through life, we all occasionally get lost. But I think there are different levels--ranging from turning a virtual corner, ending up in a real bad neighborhood, recognizing it immediately, and correcting your path as quickly as you strayed off course. And then there is when you find yourself in, what I like to call, the abyss of what the fuck. Where up is suddenly down, things that are tried and true seem to be failing, where you find comfort in the most unlikely places and people and no matter how often you close your eyes and hold your breath and click the heels of your ruby red wedges, when you look back up you're still in the same place.

A lot of what I have blogged about this summer has lead me to the stark realization that I am ensconced in my own abyss of what the fuck. I was sitting in Chicago, looking out my window onto the shores of Lake Michigan when it became clear that all of these different threads that I have written about largely in an individual manner have woven into a thick shroud that I am not sure how to come out from under. Actually. That's a lie. I do know how to come out from under it, or at least start peeking out once again from under it. But it's hard and unpleasant and I hate being forced into self confrontation. That's not to say that I am averse from taking responsibility for my own turns in the road that has left me stranded in this abyss--I just hate knowing that when I turn around and start trying to get myself out of this abyss, there will be people who will have to be cast away--those who I have held onto and put unnatural faith in and who seem to have powers that bring out some good and a lot of bad. And I know that even being on the road back I will most likely make some missteps and the path is not going to be..clear.

So Chicago. It feels like it's a million miles away (ok ok, 659 miles away) but right now I have this twitching in my gut that says it might be the end of this road back. But that's getting ahead of myself. It can be a lonely journey--much of what is in your head and heart--and it's scary. Searching for a path that is not wholly clear even for the explorer is daunting. I'm kind of hoping to stumble onto a magic map that will give me all the answers. Until then, I'm stuck with dusting off whatever compass still exists within me, strapping on the hiking boots and hoping that I meet some of the kind and deep souls along this journey that have graced those in the past. And as always, continuing to keep a little faith in myself, since, well, it's gotten me this far, right?