Homesick for no where, no when, no whom

In January 2004, I wrote this in my real-life blog:

Once in a while, I'd yearn for places that I've once called home. But they are no longer there. The physical places are still there, but they are changed somehow. Or perhaps I am changed somehow. Home is not a place; it is the atmosphere of the place, its ambience, its essence. It may even be a character, a way of being, a state of mind. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder; home is in the eye of the homesick.

Sometimes, I even miss places that I have never been to. Places that only exist in my mind. Places created when I read a book.

I missed one such place a long time ago. The book was "Legend of Lost Earth" by G. McDonald Wallis. It's one of those pocketbooks that had a second novel in the back. I read it in my late teens from my mom's bookcase. Years later, after I had gotten married and moved a continent away, I started missing that place described in the book, the characters, their emotions, their struggles. There was a hole in my heart for that place. At the time, I couldn't even remember the name of the book so I couldn't ask my mom to send it. Then one time, after I moved back near her, she sorted some books to give away, and this book was on that pile. You can't imagine the joy I had on finding it again! It was like getting reunited with a dear old friend.

I feel that homesickness again.  I've felt it many times before, each time just as strongly.  But it isn't homesickness for the book.  It's not a homesickness for a place.  It's not a homesickness for anyone.  It's not even a homesickness for a time in the past.  It's a homesickness for everything in the past.

A few days ago, I found out that both Spaceport Alpha and Spaceport Bravo, sims of the International Spaceflight Museum, are gone.  I contacted Paradox Olbers to confirm that the sims were really gone. He said they were working on it, but it doesn't look good.

About 80% of the places in Second Life that held memories for me are gone.  About 95% of the people in Second Life that meant something to me are gone.

Maybe it's because I had to let Holstein go yesterday.  He had reconciled with his real-life long-term partner the previous night.

Maybe it's because I'm sifting through old chat logs for the book and remembering past loves.  It's all a blur now.  Memories are blending into each other.

I don't know what I want anymore.  I don't know what place I'm homesick for anymore.  I don't know which lover I'm missing anymore.

The ache I feel is for all of them.  It hurts like hell.

And my heart is weary.

When my cup runneth over

Howard asks when I would be back. I don't know how to answer that question.

As simple as it sounds, it really is a difficult question. It all harks back to the reasons I needed time away. I had come to a point where my Second Life as Opal is no longer nourishing my soul and is, in fact, becoming detrimental to my well-being.

When the physical body is wounded, all you have to do is nourish it so it would heal itself. The same goes with the emotional body. But I have tried to nourish myself by expressing my emotions, by spending time with friends, by burying myself in work. My emotional body would not heal. I had a distinct sense of murkiness and stagnation in my life.

I had to withdraw.

As social as I seem and as much as I love my friends, I am essentially a loner. I need a lot of time for introspection, and I have not had that for a long while.

I am also, by nature, fiercely independent. And yet, I find myself being emotionally dependent on others, and others being emotionally dependent on me. Those emotional dependencies feel like chains that bind. I need to relearn how to love without attachment. And I regret that those who love me are also forced to learn the same.

But I cannot give, if I myself am lacking. And what I lack must come from the only authentic Source deep within me.

When will I be back? When my cup runneth over again.

A plea to Gayatri

My yoga teacher used to play the Gayatri Mantra chanted by Deva Premal during class. It almost instantly became a favorite. and we vowed to memorize the mantra and sing along the next time.

We never got to sing in class. Singing, after all, takes a lot out of you. And when you're lying there in shavasana (corpse pose) at the end of a strenuous hour and a half, you don't really feel like doing anything else but feel the wooden floor through your mat and breathe.

Today, the music came back to me in the middle of the afternoon. I don't remember what triggered the memory, but it was one of those times when you just feel like singing a specific song for no reason at all. Or, at least, no conscious reason. So, there I sat in a meditative trance, singing.

Om bhur bhuvah svah
tat savitur varenyam
bhargo devasya dheemahi
dhiyo yo nah prachodayat *

I don't know how long I sang-chanted. I was only aware of a certain energy rushing into my body. That's nothing new; I get that when my body relaxes completely. I was also aware of my voice achieving a certain clarity and richness. Nothing new there either; my voice teacher had noticed that my voice sounds better when I do yoga or any bodywork the day before. Then I started to cry.

This really isn't a crying song and this isn't the first time I cried to this song. I guess, after a while, you feel the mantra and the prayer that it is. And it becomes a plea from the soul.

"O Divine mother, our hearts are filled with darkness. Please make this darkness distant from us and promote illumination within us." *



* Mantra text and translation from http://hinduism.about.com/library/weekly/aa061003a.htm.

Solitude

They say that prayer is talking to God, and meditation is listening to God. I haven't been listening for a long while and God is poking me in the ribs.

No, nothing drastic happened. Yes, I'm okay, as okay as one can be. But I've had this uneasiness for a while now. And I'm trying to figure it out. On the surface, everything is going incredibly well. My new mermaid tails are selling. My artwork is getting noticed. I have so many dear friends who are here by my side and I love them dearly.

But something feels askew, and I don't know what it is. All I know is that I need the peace and quiet to listen.

So I'm going to be a hermit for a while. I don't know for how long. I'll still be logging in once in a while, although I'll just be lurking. But I promise I'll be back when I feel like myself again.

And I'll keep blogging when I feel the urge to write. It's not like I'm taking a vow of silence; I'll just be talking a lot less.

*hugs*