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  • Writer's pictureShana Ritter

Neither Here nor There

Today I am silly with jet lag – which really doesn’t make much sense as I have been back home from Spain for almost a  week. I don’t recall this ever happening before – the first few days were fine and then starting yesterday I have been longing for a hammock. All day long. My legs feel laden with the weight of seas and all I really want to do is take a very long nap- and this from someone who doesn’t take naps.

I am not sure if it is the change of time or the change of seasons or the shift of languages but it is as if I have reversed directions and find myself suspended back over the Atlantic caught in a trade wind calm that has me neither here nor there. What I want is an afternoon on a sun drenched porch, a stack of books, a clear jug of water with thin lemon slices, and the chance for the most of me still in some unmeasured flight pattern to catch up and be absorbed by the rest of me, which is going through the daily routines of work and house and seeing some friends and trying to put words onto a page when they are flitting past like wildly winged creatures.

Perhaps the best I can do is to still myself, if not in a hammock or in a puddle of sun, then anywhere where I stop and breathe myself back again. Stillness, I am remembering, may be the essence of any beginning. Returning we do not pick up quite where we left off, we actually begin again. Everything has just slightly changed.

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