Oh, the Places You’ll Go!

05.31.09 Chicago, IL: 9:19 pm. Last night I got some decent writing in then headed to The Mutiny for the Eschatol show. My co-worker-friend plays guitar in the band and I like to make it out to their shows when I can. They are all immensely talented musicians, and they play with a genuine passion. Their songs are like soundscapes to get lost in. These things combined make for great music and great nights in the small clubs of cities everywhere. The show last night was intense. It’s not just the music, it’s them. They command a certain intrigue to watch and listen. Some bands approach a stage as though they are approaching a lion. Some bands approach as the lion. They are the lion.

The show ended late and I got home late enough that early might be the better word to use. I slept for a few hours, dusted myself off, then headed back out the door and onto my bike. I picked up enough food to “prepare” a meal that I then delivered to some people I know at Comer Children’s Hospital. Some of the strongest people around will walk in and out of places like this all over the world. In the lobby, I came across a poster-sized version of Dr. Seuss’ Oh, the Places You’ll Go! and I paused to have a look. I am familiar with the book. I own a copy actually. It’s been years since I’ve pulled it off the shelf however. That mistake is a big one that I won’t make again. What a book; so much wisdom in an object that takes only a matter of minutes to consume. As I stood there reading it, it began to sink deeply in me. It is so relevant in so many ways to so many things. I was fascinated by how closely it was tied to some of what I had written just the night before. When I warily returned home later, the first thing I did was grab it off the shelf and read it several times. The copy I have was a gift, and it has an inscription to me on the inside cover. This inscription meant a lot to me at the time, but I didn’t realize until today how much of it never registered. Well, today it did.

There were some things that I needed to see this weekend. These were two of them.

This is what I wrote last night:

It’s time to go. When I am stagnant, my thoughts gather and settle like dust. They transform from pure and lucid notions to impure piles of dirt; sitting dark and heavy upon claustrophobic shoulders. Near-constant movement is important if not essential to my well-being. I need only brief stops along the way to assemble the discoveries, or to listen when it is exhaustion that speaks the loudest. Mostly though, I keep moving.

When in motion, the dust rises and I am able to see each speck for what it truly is. I become both lost and alive in purity of thought. It is in motion where I find a brightly burning beauty that consumes and dispels all else. To keep moving is to keep burning. To keep burning is to keep living. Without that fire, there is nothing.

I find myself walking hours to outpace the stillness, traveling miles to outrun the complacency. I find myself reading voraciously to retain even the tiniest new fragment of knowledge. I find myself finding myself. Assembling. When I am done, I will be still. Until then, I keep moving. It’s time to go.

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