Time Travel of an Ailing Penman
Have any of you ever watched an eclipse roll by you in totality? It happened to fall on my tenth anniversary (something completely unplanned by my wife and me), and I wanted to give my kids an experience I hadn’t even been exposed to. The sudden darkness reminded me of a dust storm I was in while deployed to Iraq. The encircled disk in the sky made me think of fantasy.
Being a writer means I’m rarely truly in the moment of things but deeply in the moment all at the same time. I watched the moon blot out the sun and only took my gaze off momentarily to glance over at my children clinging to their mother as if God had plucked the sun from the sky right before their little eyes.
Being humbled by nature once more allowed me to reflect on my life. The drive across the desert landscape was filled with thoughts of inadequacy. I began this journey as a writer, leaving my career as a photographer behind and only a promise to my partner that I’d try my best to earn a living from my words so that she didn’t have to work so hard for our family to stay afloat in California. It wasn’t until I got sick on the way back that I gained the wisdom I needed to move forward.
A Tent in the Sand
For all of my avid campers out there, you know that setting up a tent in the sand is a fool’s errand. It’s nearly impossible to do, and there’s nothing to anchor your temporary home to. But I like living in hard mode. So we stayed out playing a little longer than we should have on the drive and didn’t arrive at the campground until the sky was illuminated by nothing but clouds passing down faint light from the street lamps and buildings.
I didn’t know the direction of the wind, so we didn’t position our haphazardly built box at the right angle. The gust nearly took us away, waking my partner and me most of the night to find warmth in our poorly rated sleeping bags.
At some point, I drifted off long enough not to realize the sun had risen. The emptiness of the desert allowed the sun to pass through the thin walls, heating our nearly thawed bodies enough to wake us from brumation. Holding myself in my sleep bag, I knew something was wrong.
The World’s Coming to an End
We were warned by a nice drunken man who nearly hit our car in the parking lot of a New Mexico gas station that the eclipse was the parker to the end of the world as we knew it. He wanted to pray with us, which we obliged half, hoping the extra time passing would help him sober up. His message, while absurd, had an enduring warmth to it. Some stranger wanted to pull over and invite us into heaven with him.
I should have taken his omen seriously.
Rolling out of that tent, I felt heavy. Sensing I didn’t have much time left before becoming completely useless, I rushed my family to their feet. After some time in the sand, we packed up our tent and headed for California. I dove until I couldn’t anymore more. Until the ache in my body became so unbearable that my shaking hands cause the car to snack in it’s lane until I was able to pull off the next exit.
While my wife drove and my head spun, a trance took over my brain. I thought about the trip up to that point and all the memories I was making with my young children that couldn’t have been made between my parents and me because of economics and ego. I thought about how grateful I was to be in a stable relationship with a partner I could rely on. I thought about that man’s words.
It was the Summer of…
When I’m sick, my mind transports me deep into itself. Usually the past, but this time I was living out a future with my oldest son on a trip to Tahoe that I’d apparently agreed to do every year with him alone. I remember it being strange to see him as young man. I had my notebook with me. He had a camera. Our goal was to split up at the cabin, allowing me to get some uninterrupted writing done while he went out to photograph bears or something.
My wife called me as I was putting on some tea. We exchanged mushy statements of longing until my son eventually walked in, grimacing at our display, even over the phone.
Now that I’m well, I want to explore more of my mind regarding my personal life. I journal, sure, but rarely do I dive deep into myself and explore possible future paths my life can take. It’s only when my mind has too much to handle that it’ll go there.
Maybe this is the light from that man’s prayer. Over the years I’d been so preoccupied with moments right in front of me that I hadn’t given thought to looking toward a future that I could create for myself. This is something I’m going to change going forward.
