Archive for August 16th, 2010

moon trees

Last night, just before midnight, I put on dark clothes and my black bike gloves and went out to my condo’s garage.  After making sure no one was watching me, I climbed up onto its roof and for a few minutes just hung out.

No big whup, I know.  After all, I had gotten up on the garage a week or so ago from the other, easier end.  This time I merely ascended where there are trees and scratchy brush and dead sharp twigs.  It was kind of like a scene in The Compass Master when, in the dead of night, Layla climbs a tree and wall of an Italian villa. 

For me, it was fun and embarrassingly easy.

Not only that, I realized that I enjoyed doing such things in the dark of night.  I was going outside my daily norm, outside the box I’d grown comfortable within.  While Layla is a natural “borderline bad girl,” I grew up being the good girl – damn it.  Sure, I’ve done some wild stuff when I’ve traveled.  I have definitely taken some dicey risks.  But back here in the U.S. I’ve settled down too much and for too long into my neat, predictable, everyday life.  I’ve settled so much my harmless nocturnal forays seem daring.

This is why it feels good to harmlessly break a few minor rules.  After all, no one in my art deco 1939 condo building occupied by a bunch of professional people is supposed get up on the garage’s roof late at night, let alone climb a crabapple tree and use a drainpipe for footing and mess with the vines on the wall.  If it weren’t for Layla, I myself wouldn’t even think of doing such stuff.

Breaking the rules is also why, a few hours earlier, I had climbed up on the railing of my three-story building’s rooftop terrace.  I had gone up to watch the sunset when, for the first time, I felt compelled to climb over the railing and wander along the open area of the roof.  Then I climbed onto the railing itself next to the hut-like structure that houses the stairwell down into the building.  I felt like I was up with the birds in the treetops.  Had I not been wearing flip-flops and shorts, I would have pulled myself up onto that hut too. 


(Getting up would’ve been easy; getting down in shorts would’ve meant scratching up my legs, and my elbows and thigh still smart from falling off the wall of my neighbor’s garage.)

Granted, all these actions are so small, so humble, like mere rule-breaking baby steps.  But my plan is to keep practicing those steps until I feel confident enough to finally run free.