Odyssey Day 4: Seattle, forced rest

Odyssey Day 4: Seattle, forced rest

©2022 Michael Raven

Of no surprise to anyone, including myself, I managed to overextend myself over the past few days, forgetting that I am no longer the svelte and spry twenty-something who lived in Seattle so many years ago. And it caught up with me.

So I walked over to the nearby Barnes and Noble to sit down and do some reflecting today instead of adventuring. My body is relieved.

I followed the advice of my cousin and first walked over to the new Seattle Kraken Community Center with the plan of using their Starbucks as my hub for the day, but was put off by the lack of people. I don’t want to be the only one in a place of business, typing away and I’d rather it wasn’t in an ice arena (the Kraken are Seattle’s new hockey team). B&N was just around the corner, and they have a Starbucks as well, so I figured I’d come here instead.

This jaunt to Seattle has dug into me and wormed its way around. I’m not sure what, exactly it has done other than something is happening in my head. I satisfied a bunch of memories and, honestly, I think I’m done doing what I need to do here. In ways, while Seattle felt like the destination from afar, I am not so convinced that it ever was truly the final destination. I feel Portland subtly tugging at me, but that may have something to do with wanting to have a little more…. space?

While I fully appreciate what my hosts are doing for me, it is clear that no one is entirely and absolutely comfortable with my being there (the exception being Kinjo the Corgi). Sure, they don’t “mind”, but I can feel that I am making an impact on their lives, and intruding a bit — which is not what I wanted to do at all. I wanted to be a ghost, not a guest. So I am looking forward to actually moving on from Seattle and getting my own hotel where I don’t interfere with anyone’s schedule and living arrangements.

Plus, I’ve been sober for too long to be much fun. While I very rarely partake in cannabis, it was never a lifestyle for me. I have always been an infrequent pot smoker (and that’s an overstatement in itself), and never had an issue choosing not to smoke. It was alcohol that was my demon. After two of three nights having a single hit each night, it’s already lost it’s allure for me. If my hosts offer any more for the rest of my stay, I think I’ll politely refuse — which will hopefully not add to the feeling that I’m intruding. After being sober for so long, anything that takes me out of the feeling that I am nominally in control seems wrong these days. And so, any thought of bringing a small stash of edibles or flower has lost all of it’s appeal.

So that was an education about myself right there: I am not really all that much into pot and don’t really need to have it in my life. I may stop by one of the shops in Portland to try one of the low-THC/high-CBD edibles/vapes, but I’m more interested in sleep and pain management than in the high these days.

While I have seen several smaller ravens and a number of crows, I have yet to be visited by one of the big-uns. They keep coming to visit the condo/apartment I’m in — I can hear ravens of whatever size outside, tapping on the bay window between kaw and toks, but I never see them. I haven’t asked my host if they have ever had that happen. But, the smaller ravens are showing up where I go, which wasn’t the case the first day I was here, nor half of the second. It might of been the rain, but they weren’t even around the totem poles, where I usually saw them in the past.

And it has been very rainy, which is typical for Seattle this time of year. Just… more than I remember it being. I don’t know if it is my memory that is faulty, or if it is indeed raining harder and more often, but it is notable that I arrived in sunshine and leave in it, but see nothing of the sun in-between.

I had a strange dream last night. Very intense. I’m not sure that I should say much more than it involved hugging someone I care about who was wearing a grey dress. Then, abruptly, a segue into a disaster of returning home and being so frustrated by the chaos that I needed to run, screaming with both hands on the sides of my head to the dream-waterfront dock (I do not live on the water) below my home and throwing myself into a large body of water while continuing to scream, hands still on my head. Drowning… Then waking up to the grey-dress shaking me and telling me: “Wake up! Stop screaming. Everything is but a dream,” on the couch I’ve been crashed out on during my stay. I sat, bolt upright, wide awake — and she was gone and I really was awake and on the couch.

Then… tapping on the roof or window as I drank some water and let the thoughts fade away.

I hope I didn’t yell in real life, but my hosts left while I was in the bathroom this morning — so I didn’t ask. I’m not prone to doing so, but I have been known to talk in my sleep in the distant past, usually nonsensical to anyone overhearing.

While my Fitbit tells me I’ve slept better than I have in months over the past few days, I feel tired today. Maybe it is the weather. Or the amount of walking I’ve done (5000 steps already today, by the time I sat down at an hour ago at 9.15am). Or maybe the stress of my life is being shed like an old shirt. I don’t know…

Well, I might as well look like I am planning on shopping at least. Then I can sit down and make sure I don’t get a caffeine headache again today by having another and maybe grabbing another cup of plain old coffee to see if I can get motivated to ride the rail to pick up a $100 ruffle shirt for my daughter. I tell myself there is a latte at the end of that trip, but… I don’t know if I have that kind of gumption.

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