When the world is too much with me late and soon

… and the world is often too much with me late and soon …

I get in my car, loaded up with a thermos of coffee, a bottle of water, maybe some carrot sticks (you know, South Beach), or unsalted pistachio nuts … and go to a certain parking lot along the Hudson River, a lot which is usually empty. It’s not up on the cliff, it’s on river-level – so you could step right into the Hudson should you feel so inclined. I like to go there when it’s raining. I park my car, plug in my iPod, maybe bring a book – under the illusion that I will be able to read – or my writing – under the illusion that I will be able to write – and sit there for hours. Staring out my windshield, through the rain, at the grey Hudson and the mirage of Manhattan on the other side. It sometimes takes me an hour or so to “let the world go”. I blank out, I time-travel, I enter the dreamspace completely. The music (I’m all Everclear now, all the time) infiltrates, and I lift up out of the muck, and float … sometimes dipping down into memories, sometimes remaining detached, but looking on … with fondly, no bitterness. But then sometimes bitterness comes, and I work on imagining myself out of it. Or I’ll cry, head in hands. And then the music helps lift me out again.

I’m unable to go through all of this stuff at home.

So when I know I need it … I pack up my car and off I go.

I’ll be crushed if that parking lot starts being used on a regular basis by a large group of people. I couldn’t go where I need to go if my car was hemmed in on all sides. As of now, the lot is next to an empty building, waiting to be filled with new tenants (good luck with that). I love that spot.

I’ve been doing this a lot lately. Sometimes I wake up at 6 in the morning and drive to my parking lot, after picking up a giant Dunkin Donuts coffee.

If you need me, I’ll be in the only car in that one random rainy parking lot.

But only knock on my window if you really need me. Because it might not look like it … it might look like I’m just sitting there not doing anything … but believe me … I am doing a lot. It’s hard work.

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14 Responses to When the world is too much with me late and soon

  1. Rude1 says:

    That is so cool. I do something similar, I drive out to the fields. A random farmers field; potato, barley, canola… Doesn’t matter. One will strike me, I pull over and just sit. And think. Yes, and it is hard work, but very satisfying!

  2. red says:

    It’s nice to find isolation, isn’t it? … a place where you can just be, and work things out, or not work things out … I find isolation really important these days and cherish my parking lot!!

  3. rude1 says:

    I so know what you mean. I hope no one else discovers YOUR parking lot!

  4. De says:

    Before Hurricane Ike, I had a place like that on the island.
    Alas, mother nature destroyed it so I’ll just have to find a new place.

    We should somehow make that parking lot a historical marker…petition the city….or SOMETHING!

  5. jennchez says:

    I have my “special spot” too. I live in the Sonoma wine valley so there are vineyards everywhere, my favorite being at the end of our street. I walked out the door the other night to go there and I heard my husband ask our daughter, she is 5, where I was going and she replied “She’s going to her happy place and no boys allowed”!! I was so proud I could have cried :)

  6. red says:

    It’s so nice to hear about other people’s quiet contemplative spots. Especially since there is such a range – we’re all from different places. Nice.

  7. tracey says:

    I love that shot. I can picture you there and I’m so glad you have that spot.

  8. brendan says:

    Not for nothing, but I hope those tenants move in as soon as possible. By the time that happens, you won’t need to go there.

    Good on ya for the pistachio and veggies!

  9. Dave E. says:

    I sometimes use the parkways around the lakes here to do the same thing. Usually after work. They are not busy and I know them like the back of my hand, so it’s not difficult to drive and ponder at the same time. I think of it as the long way home.

  10. sarahk says:

    I’m really glad you have it.

  11. jenob says:

    I’m totally jealous of you. I haven’t been able to find “that spot” for me yet. I tend to just get in the car and drive because it’s as close as I can get right now.

    If you happen to be in the Brooklyn world and think you see one of those places, give me a shout and I’ll try it out.

  12. just1beth says:

    It’s the seawall, for me.

  13. Kate P says:

    Even in the rain, it looks cool. Maybe even cooler with the rain.

    I used to have a spot, too, when I had my office job, after they’d banned us from eating in our cubes–it was the side lot and I’d eat my lunch, listen to the radio (often make notes if I heard something new), read (later study), just get away from everything and everyone for an hour.

    I hope it stays your spot for as long as you need it.

  14. Marshall, Will and Holly are rockin’ out

    It’s strange. It’s like a dream come true. I’m really into Everclear (as should be obvious – ahem, ahem, ahem – ’tis a juggernaut that shows no sign of stopping) and for some reason I did not have a copy…

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