I’m excited about something that might happen soon. It probably won’t, but maybe it will.
But I can’t tell you what it is.
I know. I know. I’m telling you without telling you. That’s so annoying. I know. I’m sorry. But I don’t want to jinx it. And you know what? While I’m waiting to find out if the exciting thing will or won’t happen, you can wait to find out what that maybe-exciting thing will maybe-be.
Calm down. It’s not life-changing. I’m not moving or dying. I’m just thinking about something that might happen, although probably it won’t, but maybe it will, and if it does, it will be very, very exciting.
I keep thinking about that word. I’m excited. It’s exciting. These days I’m studying Spanish, and finding it helpful to explore word roots. (For instance, ‘encontrar’ might seem like a weird translation of ‘to find,’ until you realize it comes from the same root word as does ‘encounter.’) Exciting comes from the Latin word exciere, to call out or call forth. In Spanish, you can either say you are emocionado (excited), or that something is excitante (exciting). Emocionado (and emotional, the English counterpart) comes from Latin emovere, which means to stir, to agitate, to move. Excitante means both exciting and stimulating. Stimulating, as in drugs.
That’s right, I feel like I’m on drugs. My emotions are moving. My emotions are movement. My nerves are being called forth. My daydreams say, come out of hiding, nervies, see the sun and dance! It’s everywhere in my body. Fingers, toes, temples. Everything is wiggling without wiggling. As I call forth my body, my body calls me forth. It’s almost anxiety. If I’m not careful, it might morph into that. In college, I was so excited by the possibilities of life, I overwhelmed myself into a weekly panic attack. Where is all this energy coming from?
On Thursday morning I woke up excited. I ran ten miles, quickly. By the end of it I calmed down. Until the evening, when my nerves had recovered and started bopping around again. So I went on a walk. It was the most beautiful walk in existence. I walked over a bridge that somehow signified the past and future connecting at once. The sunset was relentless. I listened to Billie Eilish’s new album, which is also perfect, turned it up and danced on the sidewalk. Back home, I logged into my virtual Spanish class. The teacher asked me to create a sentence with la verdad. The truth. Any sentence, to pull one out of the air. I said, ¡La verdad de la vida es que toda la gente es buena! (The truth of life is that all people are good). What’s going on? When did I get so disgustingly optimistic? I don’t care. I’m having a great time.
Most of the time. Sometimes I’m just sitting here, waiting.
Time travel is real. My future is now. What might or might not happen is already happening. I think that’s where the energy comes from. It comes from future-me, looking back. It’s the anticipation. It wiggles my nerves. My nerves can’t handle stasis right now. They are everywhere in time.
I’m trying not to think about the thing that might or might not happen. It’s okay if it doesn’t. Honestly it’s not a big deal. And at this point, it almost doesn’t matter if it happens or not. If it doesn’t, I’ll find something else to look forward to. I’ll need to. Because I’m realizing how much I’ve missed this feeling. It makes everything beautiful. When’s the last time you’ve looked forward to something big, something maybe huge? It’s been a long time. It’s been a pandemic-amount of time.
For now I’m just excited. I’m daydreaming like crazy. And I’m enjoying the hell out of this feeling.
Elephant of the week: slightly less excited than me