Lately, I’ve taken to walking for health & sanity in the morning. I usually leave my ball and chain behind on my desk at 8, or a little after, to walk for 20 minutes, reverse direction and return to Hippy Hill.
The walk balances my spirits but not the way you’d think. I walk along, happy to be alive, inhaling spring. I imagine Somewhere Else. I cannot look at a body of water without thinking of going Somewhere Else. Getting there eludes me.
I’ve always wanted to be Somewhere Else. Just before my ill-fated first marriage (all seven months), DC Wilbur said to Poor David, “If you marry her, you’ll have to follow her. Is that how you want to spend your life?”
While I’m walking I make diabolical plans to move my husband Somewhere Else. Before I met him, I liked searching for Somewhere Else alone. Tonight, I suggested Somewhere Else might not be far from here and we could split our time between here and there. He was receptive to the concept, it being a safe abstract.
I like to think of living Somewhere Else. Somewhere Else used to represent a place where I’d love someone who loved me the right way, somebody worthy of naive trust. I actually made that trip. I liked it so much I became a citizen.
Now, Somewhere Else is relief from the sensation of being trapped here by pressures that are not mine. Somewhere Else is more relaxed than here. Somewhere Else might not be a final destination.