I have been crying all day.
Like, all day. (The very worst moment was when Oliver looked up at me and saw tears in my eyes and immediately said, in his tiny baby voice: “Sowrry” like he had caused it.)
Because there are a whole bunch of changes upon me and I didn’t really ask for them or want them. And I feel them. And they are coming for me.
But I am comforted by one thing. And that is that I experienced déjà vu — not once — but twice, today. Twice.
There are some scientific explanations for for the how and the why déjà vu occurs – and I’m not contesting any of them, but I have my own explanation. And that is: that it happens to let me know that I am on the right path.
Like, I’m suddenly experiencing something I have never experienced before — but that I have completely experienced before. When I first realize it, I get really quiet, just for a second. I drop my eyes and put my lips together, and I don’t say a word. It’s in my nature to yell out, “OMG THIS HAS ALREADY HAPPENED!”, but it’s like the shock of knowing what I am in the midst of takes over and silences me all the way through my body. I am silenced, by the magic of life unfolding in front of me.
This morning, I was itching to get a move on when my darling neighbor, Ginger, appeared. I haven’t spoken to her in months, I tell you; winter comes along and shuts down the block. So I wanted to ask her things and tell her things and just be with her a bit. Suddenly, Oliver took off and ran around the house. I called for her to join us in the backyard, but she did not hear. I considered grabbing him and heading back up, but I yelled to her louder, instead. She rounded the driveway and joined us. Oliver wanted to ride his tricycle (which means, have me push him while he yells ‘wheee!’) and beg for popsicles and scream unknown combinations of syllables at my face. He was ticked off about everything. But suddenly, he grabbed a bouncy ball and threw it to Ginger. Though she was balancing a tiny poodle in her arms, she reached up with her left hand and PALMED. IT. And so on, and so forth: Oliver and Ginger played a game of catch. (I want to say Ginger is in her 70’s, so palming a ball while balancing a poodle was wildly impressive to me. I suppose it would be at any age, really.)
I was crouching above the cement, staring into the sunlight and smiling when WHOOSH. Ohmygod, this moment is a repeat. This has happened. We’re here now. I’m on the right path.
Hours later, I walked into a room for an interview for a job I didn’t particularly want. Not that the job sounds unappealing – it’s more so the fact that the job isn’t a writing job. (I want to be paid for my writing. It’s not just that I want to be paid for my writing — it’s that I want to be allowed to be writing. And that happens by way of being paid for writing. Because otherwise, you’re just sitting, writing, no paycheck in sight, with bills for food and daycare and house needs and you’re like bitch I have to write it feeds my soul isn’t that enough? and the answer is no.)
So, anyway, I walk into this interview and it is a small, intimate room, and they go to shut the door behind me when two beautiful dogs come bounding up to me. They approach, and sniff me, and one makes a snorting sound. I look down at it, delighted, puzzled — and then the woman on my left speaks. “Thank you. You may go now. That was the interview.”
She was kidding but holy shit how fantastic.
WHOOSH. Ohmygod this moment is a repeat. This has happened. I’m here now. I’m on the right path.
I’m not done crying. And I don’t know if I’ll get offered the job or if I’ll take the job or if we’ll move and where we’ll move and if I’ll ever get paid enough for my writing to cover my car payment, etc, but I’ll be damned, it feels so good to know that I’m on the right path.