I found it.
I’m not even sure what it was. I’m pretty certain that I couldn’t have told you before I left, and even now, having found it, I’m still not sure I could say. At least, it would be hard to put into words. But I can tell you where, and when, I found it. Not that that would do you much good, because your it probably wouldn’t be found there. In fact, even my it is not likely to be there anymore, because, for one thing, I’m not me anymore, at least not the me that found it, there. But when I was that me, which was earlier today, I found it, and I found it in a river in Lane County, Oregon, between the tiny town of Brickerville and the only slightly larger town of Swisshome. I’m in the basement room of the evangelical church of Swisshome right now, having toasted their last three pieces of wheat bread that the man up the street who let me in found in the crisper drawer of the fridge, and spread on them the banana jam that I bought a few days ago, in what seems like a different life. I found it in that river, sitting on a rock, dipping my feet in up to the ankles in a cool (but not too cold) Oregon stream, with the sun setting behind me, and the rest of the road laid out in front. I’d left my bike up by the bathroom at the primitive little park set up by the side of Highway 36, and when I got to the rock, I realized that I couldn’t see the bike, and I was nervous, and then I was mad at myself for being nervous, and I got anxious, and I told myself not to be anxious, which didn’t work, so I got up and walked, barefoot, over the rocks, and moved the bike so I could see it from the river, and got some little splinter in my foot, and walked back down the moss, and thought about whether the leaves I was looking at were poison oak, and what did it mean if I got poison oak on my feet, and then back over the rocks, and sat down heavily and breathed out, and stuck my feet back in the water, and then there it was.
It was just right there. It was right there in that moment. And nothing happened, and nothing continued to happen, and I smiled a little bit, and even now hours later, in the basement of this church I can feel the little sensation at the end of my nose that means tears are starting to well up in my eyes, and I won’t likely actually cry, but I feel like crying, and a bit like laughing, and a bit like smiling, and a bit like love. It’s the *it*-ness of the thing, this sense that, of all the rivers, *this* is the river, and of all the rocks, *this* is the rock, and *that* is the piece, and *I* am the one who is here, who is meant to be here, and *this* is where I should put my feet, and *this* is right, and *this* is the thing, this it, this thing, and now I found it! And now the last 6 years are worth the wait, and it’s OK, and moving on past this point is fine, and there is no regret, and there is no what-if-I-did-this, and nobody wants to be anything but who they are, and now I maybe will cry, because that feeling, that sense, is what I sensed in the casino days ago, what I sensed when I walked out my door, what I sensed when I planned this trip and stood in REI and quit my job and sat in a room doing downward dog, and none of those were *it* but they were *it-like*, and they knew the way to *it*, and all of them I am so grateful to, because *it* is the thing I want, and *it* is the thing I need, right there, right in that river, right there. And now I head off to find another it, but with a happy heart, knowing that no matter how long the road, that there are *its* to be had, and that I will likely find another, but that even if I do not, the search is worth it, because they are there to be found. It’s like finding gold, and knowing that the gold is there, and even if you never find another piece, now the digging is a worthwhile task.
Tomorrow - more about my trip. Today was about this.
