Going back to begin again

Returning to Portland, and considering staying

You might’ve missed: my thoughts on truth in memoir, what it’s like to go pervy bare for summer, and I’m still selling this vintage collection! I’ve been lagging on my follow-ups on that so if you’re interested and/or haven’t heard back from me, please respond to this email or comment below.

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I’m leaving Portland tonight. When you live on the west coast you can just say that, Portland, without a state qualifier. Because no one, really, thinks about New England much or if they do it’s in the “I’ve always wanted to visit” kind of way. Where I’ve lived for over twenty years now is seen as a place to pass through, not live, at least not year round. But when you live on the east coast and you say “Portland” you will often be asked “Maine or Oregon?” since both are relevant and present in the mind.

I’m leaving the Oregon Portland tonight, on a red-eye, a flight format that always confuses me the day of travel, wondering why I’ve done this to myself again. The answer, I’ve realized on this trip, is I’m always trying to stay here as long as possible.

This trip was the beginning of my tour (you know what tour) to figure out where I might move next. I wanted to start my search in a place where I have the most connections and still so many friends, where I’ve even dated over the past two years (and stayed in touch). Portland made my dreams come true once. What I’ve realized on this trip is that maybe it can again.

In BUT YOU SEEMED SO HAPPY I wrote about how when I was younger I thought the trajectory of life was a straight line, everything moving in one direction. But in the process of examining my history up to that point, my beliefs and my marriage, the places I’ve lived and my ambition or lack thereof, I realized that life—my life anyway—actually felt more like a series of bigger and bigger loops, constantly dumping me back where I had started, but with better information each time.