I can just tear up, not really cry. The shops here in Big Fork were so lush, so beautiful. I wanted pretty things, I imagined what kind of life I would have to have in order to be able to buy such things without worry or care. To look in any direction was to see something attractive – the gorgeous leather boots with bangles and bobbles; the rich jewelry with the merry glint; the beautiful skirts and sweaters, the classy jeans. I felt like a dirty urchin stepping into a place she did not belong but very much liked, as if someone would come and ask her to buy something or leave at any moment. The fact that no one had a cross word or even the slightest disapproval of my presence did nothing to make me feel better. Along with the realization that I was out of my league came an uneasy feeling that was, and still is, much more difficult to name. It hung in my chest, a dark heaviness like sadness. I felt like a stranger in my own skin, like I had been napping and the car stopped in a place I did not recognize. How absurd – I've been in ritzy shops, known about crazy wealth, seen expensive things. It was like I'd wandered out of a perfectly comfortable place and found my self looking back at it like it was almost shameful. I've always guessed that there were better, more refined places in the world, heard about them, seen them in pictures. What feels worse is that I love this place so much – this entire Northwest Montana area, west of the divide – I love it. It calls to me. But I can't come in to stay, only to look and not touch, to breathe in the pine-spiced mountain air but not ever call it home. Why do I even want it? Just because I can't have it? Why does a walk along wooded paths soothe my soul? Why should it need soothing?
Now I can cry.
Okay, first off - since this is a subject quite close to my own heart, excuse my biased opinion here - but don't tell yourself it can never be. Maybe it isn't, now; maybe it just can't be, now; but if it is really the place for you, don't tell yourself you can never have it. If you look at it that way, you will never be satisfied, whether you have it or not. I think you are right, I think that area of western Montana (in my case it was Missoula) is the best place there is to live, period; and I have lived in other wonderful places (Seattle ain't too bad). Not a day goes by when I don't miss the beautiful home we had in Missoula, the really cool street we lived on, the incredible mountainside 2 blocks away, the places to eat, the parks etc etc. Moving away from there was the 2nd biggest mistake I ever made (so far, probably not done yet). But if I let myself dwell on that part of it, it kind of ruins what was great about being there in the first place. Don't dream it too big, is what I'm saying; otherwise nothing will ever fulfill the dream, even the dream itself. If it's right for you, who is to say it can never, ever be? Don't take that away from yourself, it's forcing the loss of something special when there is nothing to gain by doing so - there is no trade off down that road. Let yourself dream it. Dreams are powerful and tangible things. Okay - enough of that, now I probably have to go cry too.
ReplyDeleteWell Steve -
ReplyDeleteDon't cry. I didn't cry for very long, though I can't say I changed my mind. It was a disturbing feeling, it hung with me for about two days, and I've stopped dwelling.
But my mouth is still hanging open because I am so surprised by your candor. What is it about that part of the planet that stirs such strong emotions? We don't know each other well at all, and yet we obviously completely understand one another, and I believe share a deep connection to that place.
Thanks for the hand on the shoulder, and the hankie - I've washed it and folded it - I hope you had a spare...
If I get to live in Heaven on the Divide, you're invited to visit any time.
eeeehhhh -
ReplyDeleteplease do not have nightmares about this. You know how much I make, and you know it isn't enough to get me to the Flathead. For the moment you are safe.
But if I make my million on EBay...
can i come visit, too?
ReplyDeletecan't you come with me?
ReplyDeleteno Bean, I cannot. i like flat dirt, and there's hardly any over there.
ReplyDeletetoo many trees and pretty water equals too much bullshit and traffic and uppity people.
i could handle it for a few days, IF you had some rocks or dirt in your yard.
Well, if you can't come with me, then I guess visiting would be fine. There would be deer poop, dirt, and pretty trees in my yard, but I'm not sure about the bare dirt. We'll see how often you stop by...
ReplyDeleteokay, okay. i'll bring my own dirt. remember, the deer poop is not to eat, even though it looks like buttered coco-puffs .
ReplyDeleteWe will eat Bear Tracks, though...
ReplyDeleteor Moose Tracks...
you bring the dirt, I'll have ice cream...
When we lived in Missoula, right in town, during the winter we got amazing wildlife in our yard. Including deer, one of whom laid under a tree in the back yard for 3 days. I have pictures. Of course we were really only 2 blocks from Mount Sentinel, but still . ..
ReplyDeleteWe didn't eat the poop though. And I thought I made some weird jumps with my screwed up brain.