Émigré

"refers to a person who has 'migrated out,' but often carries a connotation of politico-social self-exile." [Wikipedia]

I wrote this word on my window last month (minus one accent aigu, oops). My metaphor. A reminder that I am on the move and things behind must be left behind. When they pull back at me, I draw a line and call them my old country. Incuding: a scant sort of language, a way of life (existing?), a few concrete objects and maybe one or two people. Whatever must be gone from my life, I say of these to myself: Already gone.

I learn like an emigrant, one who leaves, and someday like an immigrant, one who arrives. Now is the forward, the new air and its miles before my face. The in-between, where I am anchored only to my feet and my breath. Walking—expectancy—and the waking.