And yet I know, unerringly, where I am in relationship to my mother’s house. Right now, it’s five hundred miles away over my right shoulder. If I go to the kitchen, it’s sort of off my left side, but angled back to the right. I wouldn’t trust this sense to lead me out of so much as a brushy thicket. But it’s always there.
The one year I participated in Brownies, some woman named Artie gave us a lesson on the compass and set us on a treasure hunt. My buddy had no use for me and added herself to another pair. I took the compass, turned the base around until the arrow pointed in the direction I wanted to go, and headed for home. Fifteen minutes later, Artie found me pacing along a dry creek bed and chewed me out for leaving. She didn’t understand that my buddy ditched me, not the other way around, or that I didn’t like the raisins that were supposed to be our prize. I didn’t understand that just because I’d made the compass arrow point southwest, that didn’t mean I was walking southwest, or why she thought it so important that I go east. And I didn’t even try to explain that I’d chosen that direction because I wanted my own bed, not some tent.
I wonder if this same pull applies to astronauts. Do they feel this connected to their origins? If they passed through space-time into a dimension where the natives could make money rain up from their hands, would they still experience that tiny cord? How far extends Earth’s gravity?
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Trifecta is having fun with the urban dictionary this week, so I got all nostalgic and weird. I appear capable of doing funny right up until someone suggests it. Let it rain people.
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Jessie Powell is the Jester Queen. She likes to tell you about her dog, her kids, her fiction, and her blog, but not necessarily in that order. |
I read somewhere that having a sense of direction is simply not in the female DNA.
I can attest to that. I’m still trying to find my way out of the paper bag…sigh
I have friends who have maps in their heads. I am deadly armed with a map. My husband has to be the navigator when GPS fails, because I, while ALWAYS confident of myself, am a complete failure in the “accuracy” department.
While I invariably turn the map upside down, hence, leading myself down the fine garden path the wrong way! Well, half a brain is better than none, and the other half works fairly well. I have no female friends who have maps in their heads. You’re lucky. My friends are as bad or worse than I am.
I often brag about my internal compass. problem is that as soon as I’m done bragging I usually find myself lost. yet, I am really good about NOT getting lost… Since I’ve been on a boat (mainly anchored) it’s been nearly impossible to know where what is. I’ll point where I think land is and pop my head up to realize I was so wrong. These stupid things keep spinning around… You’d be so lost. But I would share my cookies with you so you could leave a trail of crumbs (for the fish to eat).
I often wonder about astronauts and how it would feel to see earth from the orbit.
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The sea is often without any kind of anchoring visual data. Get a dark night or two out of sight of land, and you can see how ancient mariners were screwed.
[Sorry for butting in here]
Marie, you should follow @Cmdr_Hadfield as he tweets photos from space!
Hop over and visit KymmInBarcelona’s recent post Rain (April Fool’s Day version)
If I’ve been there once, I can get there again. If I see it on a map, I can figure it out. Throw me in the woods and I am DOOMED.
My husband is the exact opposite. He gets lost 5 min from home. Middle of a city? Screwed. But toss HIM in the woods and he can find his way no problem.
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I used to pretend it was a difference between my rural and his urban upbringing. And while it’s true that I DO perform better if allowed to navigate by landmarks, he can still out-map me in my own territory.
All I can say is how thankful I am for the gps on my phone.
I love how you connected this to your mother’s house, how it’s your center.
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I am terrible with directions. I don’t think I could survive without my GPS telling me when to turn right.
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I enjoyed reading this. The sense of an invisible force pulling you towards your place (wherever that may be) is so true – even for astronauts.
Oooh I like your weird and nostalgic piece. It gave me something to think about. And I like the idea of astronauts being tethered like balloons to the earth.
Well done. I don’t like raisin’s either. Rotten grapes are no prize.
Haha, love this! I’m the type of person who, once I’ve driven/walked/been someplace, it’s burned into my brain and I can easily find my way again. I’m halfway decent with a map. Put me in the woods, I’m scared and off to find the nearest Holiday Inn. I usually end up arguing with GPS because it sends me off in the opposite direction in which I feel I need to go.
I was in Brownies, too, but only for the uniform. The moment I got it (and that cute little beanie hat) I was outta there.
If I have to drive around the block to park, I get lost.
I like your play on attachments.
Hop over and visit KymmInBarcelona’s recent post Rain (April Fool’s Day version)
I love this piece – I love the pull of home, conveyed so well. I love the crappy prize of raisins. I love the fact that after 10 years, I’m moving home again. And there won’t be raisins when I get there.
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Ironically, it’s my husband who has an awful sense of direction! I love how this seems like stream-of-consciousness but is actually a structured piece.
Hop over and visit Bee’s recent post Boys
I don’t think it’s a male/female thing. I know some women who are killer navigators and some guys who get lost in their bathrooms. Me, I’m great unless I’ve flown somewhere and do not have a base of orientation. GPS and maps only help to a point. Interesting entry.
No good with directions either. But this little piece is lovely
Hop over and visit Ruby Manchanda’s recent post Dash against Darkness
oh. Wow. This was so good, I mean everything you write is GOOD but this, even the part about how you can sense what direction your mom tickled me, made me nod, “yes” I said, “Me too, I always know where she is in relation to me”.
I love the language and the way you pulled this together.
as for my sense of direction? it’s horrific. When we are in NYC, I count on John to know which way is Uptown, like Carrie, if you get me there once, I can get back (esp if I’m driving) but I too creative to understand maps.
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I like the line about knowing where you are “in relationship” to your mother’s.
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I LOVE this. Because it’s true. We are connected in so many ways to our origins. Without realizing it, I purchased a home that is a lot like the house I grew up in and sometimes, when I walk up the stairs at night, for an instant, I think I’m walking up my mothers.
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I love the nostalgic tone to this piece. I never get lost because I never consider myself lost. I just figure I’ll eventually get where I’m supposed to be. I’m also always late. Those two are likely related.
Give me a map and I can find jut about anything. Even on my GPS I turn off the ‘voice’ to keep its distraction muted. I can tell you with a good deal of accuracy, which way South is, but ask me to point in the direction of my mother’s and I’d be stumped. I like your sense better.
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I love all of this. Rambly and humorous and true.
Me? I love maps and directions, and I have had Google maps in my head far longer than there have been GPSs in our cars and phones, and I am quite sure of the pull of certain gravities. Quite sure, indeed.
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