When holding onto the past serves a purpose, even if it's not what I want

Recently, I returned to the city where I grew up for a wedding. My wonderful new partner and I stayed with my parents, and we had the chance to see friends that we hadn’t seen in quite some time.

Leading up to the departure, I felt wildly excited. We would get to explore the city together and meet each other’s besties since childhood for the first time. We would get to go to the lake, relax and have some time away from work without stress. We were going home. We were going where it all would be ok, safe and welcoming.

Except, it wasn’t.

I’ve been in New Orleans for a year and a half now, and for the first time since moving here, my return to my hometown felt awkward and vulnerable. My friends were still there, with open arms, but the connections were different. Places that had once been a haven for me were no longer. It was not home, and despite the wonderful time spent and merriment and love, I was so glad to return to Louisiana, to return… home?

But New Orleans, with its freshly familiar road ways, dear friends and the apartment I have been working on so hard to make cozy, warm and welcoming, isn’t quite home yet either. It is becoming one, but in the mean time, I am emotionally, quite homeless., neither here nor there. And, let me tell you dear friends, it can be quite nerve wracking for a little zodiac cancer like me.

The fact that my former fiancé has been invading my mind, my dreams and, especially while visiting my hometown where we had lived, my memories, hasn’t been a sweet icing on the cake either.

…Except for when, amidst the inequality and misery of our relationship, at the best moments, remembering how he was able to give me a feeling of complete and utter safety and acceptance. A home, so to speak. Something I have not been able to find in a person since, and a feeling that to this day, I can conjure up at a moments notice to feel that sense of security that I so badly want.

And ooooooh does this feel good to homeless little cancer me.

But oh, do I wish it didn’t have anything to do with him.

So, why, why, why, why?

Because, habit, habit, habit.

For so many years, my ex was emotional go-to in my imagination, whenever I felt down, or scared, or alone. And now, in a time when I feel particularly vulnerable and emotionally homeless, it’s not surprising where my mind goes.

Although I don’t want him in my head, he serves a purpose that is very logical and real for my current needs. I do believe though, that with time, he will no longer be the vessel for my sense of safety, home and comfort. With time, I hope to find it elsewhere, in New Orleans, in my friends here, and my surroundings, in my partner, and in myself.

In the mean time, I don’t think that my inability to find 100% comfort in a person is a bad thing. The relationship I am in now is delightful, refreshing and full of great conversation, debate and equal footing where no one is better or more authoritative than the other.  I do find so much comfort in him, just not 100%. And the fact that I don’t find 100% comfort my partner is in fact, a good thing. It allows me to learn to find my own comfort in who I am and where I am, and that is of utmost importance. 

On Being Brave - Part 1

My family gathered over the Easter/Passover weekend. It wasn't my blood family (besides my parents), but rather family by choice; dear friends, my godparents all joined us for a sedar, the ceremony and meal based around the story of the Exodus. For us, it's a night full of poetry, thought, song and good food. 

And there was a point, where my dad looked at me and asked me to read a poem he had chosen. It went like this:

I, Miriam, stand at the sea

And turn

To face the desert

Stretching endless and

Still.

My eyes are dazzled

The sky brilliant blue

Sunburnt sands unyielding white.

My hands turn to dove wings.

My arms

Reach

For the sky

And I want to sing 

the song rising inside me.

My mouth open

I stop.

Where are the words? 

Where is the melody?

In a moment of panic

My eyes go blind.

Can I take a step 

Without knowing a

Destination?

Will I falter

Will I fall

Will the ground sink away from under me?

The song still unformed -

How can I sing? 

I started to cry. I wanted to run away, hide my face, but I didn't. I don't know if my dad had chosen it for me to read on purpose, or if it was just my turn cause I hadn't read in a while. 


But be chose aptly, because this poem is about me. It's about how every morning, I face the day, feeling so unsure of whether I will get through anything and come out safely. 


Leaving your job, your home and everything that is familiar to travel has not always been rainbows and flowers that I and probably many others imagine(d) it might be. It is hard work to forge a new path, and there will be many stumbles and falls that last a very long time. I am someone who craves stability and challenge at the same time. These two do not always go together, and the result has been as much uncertainty and fear as wonder, sometimes more.


Before this point in my life, everything tended to fall into place. Now not so much. This is my first time having to really scramble hard for a job. And it's the first time where I'm really having to step into the unknown. It's terrifying...


And so, what to do next?
The poem did not end there. The first part tells one part of my story, and the second part tells another. Here it is clear what must be done:

To take the first step--

To sing a new song--

Is to close one's eyes and dive

into unknown waters.

For a moment knowing nothing risking all--

but then to discover 

The waters are friendly

The ground is firm.

And the song--

the song rises again.

Out of my mouth 

come words lifting the wind.

And I hear

for the first time

the song

that has been in my heart

silent

unknown

even to me.

And it's true. Whether I able to recognize it at the depths of my fear or not, the result of doing something which scares me is often not even close to as bad as I imagine it would be. 

What is most important is to begin!

I'm sure I'm not the only person to whom this poem applies, or else it's author, Ruth Sohn, would probably not have written it.

For me it serves as a reminder to keep going, and that in order to happen upon the beauty in this world, one is often required to face some deep and difficult fears. How would I ever know that the unknown waters are friendly, even stunning, if I never tried?

___________________________

Stay tuned for 'part 2' where I describe some of the ways I challenge myself by diving into unknown waters.

What Has Your Imagination Done For You Today?

 I recently realized that I have a brilliant new talent; I can imagine my way out of a frustrating situation!

I haven’t always been able to do this. In fact, sometimes, my imagination gets me into more trouble than good. The dang thing is still very good at jumping to negative conclusions without bothering to look for adequate information to do a reality check. It also tends to get over excited regarding romantic relationships, and create a happily-ever-after future in my mind that does not at all coincide with what is really going on.  But no matter.

To me this idea has always oscillated between something that should be a no-brainer and something that is incredibly difficult to do. In other words, the more difficult or frustration the situation, the more difficult it is to activate my imagination.

But I am getting better at it, and I would like to share a story in which I have successfully been able to alter my state of mind using only my imagination.

The little car that could if it wanted to:

My biggest pride and joy in life (well the material part of it) right now is my car. I own a 2002 Subaru Impreza WRX Wagon and am incredibly proud to say that as of last summer I do all the necessary maintenance and repairs on her myself. She’s the perfect car for me in all weather conditions. She’s fast and sturdy with a turbo charged engine and AWD.  So you can imagine that I have a lot of fun with her whether I’m driving down unpaved desert roads or hightailing it around in the city.

I’m sure you can also imagine my disappointment when I found out the place where currently I live is going to be installing speed cameras around every school and park in the entire city.  

I’m by no means serial speeder or lawbreaker in any way. But going a few miles over the speed limit isn’t going to hurt anyone more than going the limit should there be an accident. However, in all probability, these speed cameras are not going to be so generous.

The Process

Since I have little control over whether the speed cameras will be installed or not, at this point, I had a choice; I could complain and feel cheated, or I could alter my mindset and find another way to view the situation.

I chose the latter.

I used my imagination to go through different, yet realistic ways I could view the scenario, and then settled on the one that felt best.

This took some time and involved a lot of sitting with my frustration. This first step is very important because it allows you to process and  move beyond the upset feeling and into a more calm mindset.

After that, I simply focused my thoughts and attention on the issue at hand, and challenged myself to come up with as many different ways to view the situation as possible while also staying based in reality.

I knew which one was right simply because it felt right in my body. I felt calmer, more relaxed, and much better about the situation which was at first so frustrating.

...so here's what I decided.

Since my car is so versatile to begin with, I chose to keep seeing her that way. Yes, I will have to go slower than I'd like to in many situations, but the cool thing is, when I do have the chance to go fast, the potential is right there without changing a thing. All I have to do is press the throttle.

Oh wow, I love my car....

Thinking back, there are many other times in which I have used this technique without even knowing it. But now that I have figured out exactly what I am doing to overcome these obstacles, I think it's going to be a huge boon in my life. 

So, next time you come across a frustrating situation that is almost completely out of your control, give your imagination a chance.

... and just for the fun of it, here's how I did it, in a neatly organized list.

1) Allow yourself to sit with the frustration and process and recognize it by thinking about it for a little while. (“I’m really pissed off about this!”) Your feelings are real and acceptable, whatever they are. This may take a bit of time.

2) Once you have separated yourself emotionally from the issue at hand, let your imagination run freely while focusing on the problem outside of your control, thinking of as all sorts of different ways you could chose to view the situation. This may also take a bit of time. Days even. (Remember you don't always have to focus on it continuously).

3) Let your intuition guide you in choosing which one feels the best. Remember though, it’s important to keep your choices based in reality as much as possible.

4) Practice often. I recommend starting with something small that is irritating, but not potentially life changing, such as waiting in a really long slow moving line at the grocery store or what have you.

Enjoy!

How I Went From Teaching High School To Traveling Around North America To Returning Home To Work In An Autoshop

... or Why Leaving Everything to Travel Around the United States On My Own Has Been Worth It Beyond My Wildest Dreams

It's been a year and seven months since I took to the road. 

Ye old childhood chair

I’m sitting at home, in the same chair that has been in my bedroom since I was born. It’s been reupholstered a few times, but really it’s still the same chair. The same shape, the same type of fabric, although it isn’t the same color; the material is brand new. I’ve been crying. One of those cries where you just let it rip and sob your heart out. I had put on my headphones and started listening to one of my favorite pieces by 1 Giant Leap, and just let myself collapse. And with the music holding me, I was just there with myself. I didn’t need to call my friend Amy to bawl on her shoulder, although I knew she would have let me, anytime, anywhere. I didn’t start texting Karin with messages about how I’ll never be good enough, because yes, I’ve just been ditched again by a guy that I really really really like(d). I don’t even go grab the parrot. I’m OK being alone with myself, and the music, and my feelings. I’m OK waking up every morning with my chest tight, barely able to breathe from loneliness and anxiety, and doing whatever I need to do anyways.  I couldn’t do this a year ago.

A year ago I also couldn’t have written the letter to Adi (the guy I really really really like(d)) saying that the he was not responsible for my hurt, nor could I help him with his, given the choice he had made to break up with me, and the best thing that he could possibly do is leave me be to heal on my own. (We had been going together for a number of months, when he called me from his parents’ house over x-mas break to say that he had recently met another girl and was already engaged to her.  We met a few days later at his bequest. The guilt about it was literally coming out of his pours, and he wanted to remain friends, checking in on me, to see how I was ‘recovering’ every few days. But to let him do that would not have been good for me, so I said so.)

Banjo the Mustang 

and I overcame our fears together

In writing that letter, I have taken another risk, I have stood up for myself, just like I did a year and a half ago when I sold most of my things, gave up my home, my well-paid job teaching Russian to high school students, and took the road to work with complete strangers on ranches with horses, because it's what I wanted to do.

I was on the road for a little over 9 months actually. I spent time in Saskatchewan on a horse breeding ranch, and then down in Colorado working as a drywall installer, riding the neighbors horses in the cow pastures in my spare time. I went to New Mexico to gentle and train wild caught Mustang horses on a Bureau of Land Management contract. I was planning to go to Tennessee to work another horse ranch, but my car broke down midway in Coleman, Texas, and I ended up going from church to church looking for someone who would take me in. The car would take over a month to repair. I got to know Coleman fairly well by then, and some awfully kind people too.  

My car had been my life blood on the road, taking me from place to place, through the most gorgeous of landscapes, and away from bat-shit-crazy-insane ranch bosses at a moment’s notice. She (yes, my car is female) has also been the source of some awesome music jamming and great conversations with myself about myself and what I’m experiencing. And it was at this point (after $3000 of repairs!!) that I realized, I cannot keep doing this without knowing what is going on under that hood. When I returned to Chicago, I took her to a local mechanic for something minor, and was also advised that my front brake pads were low.

Screw this, I thought. I know someone who knows how to work on cars. I’ll contact them and see if they can help me. My brake pads will be the first part of my education.

My awesome and trusty Subaru WRX

And so I found myself in the garage of the son of one of my father’s graduate school friends. And that’s how it all started. I’ve spent more of my summer and fall than I’d like to admit tinkering around with my car and fixing all the things that so-called  ‘professional’ mechanics messed up. And there was a lot! (I ended up having to redo a shoddy clutch job that my local garage had done right before I first set off. The repair that ended up being done in Texas also should never have had to happen. It was the timing belt that broke and destroyed everything in its wake. I had had the preventive maintenance done just 10 months earlier in Chicago… badly as it turned out. I’m not going to list the rest of it, but if you can believe it, there’s more!).

That’s how I ended up working in an auto shop.

And I really love it.

                                                                        _______________________________

My name is lust, I’m not a thing, more like a quality, I attach myself behind your eyes temporarily and blind you everything you think you might want to be, make you promise me everything for fame, for idolatry, and when I leave you cannot ever follow me, find yourself confined in solitary[1].

I think I’m going to look back at this essay and kick myself for using Adi so much in my explanation of things, but events with him are present, and they explain what I want to say pretty well. Hopefully by the time I reread this, I’ll be over him. Actually I know I will be, because I am learning how to look see reality versus the lust and dream world that I have created since my childhood.

In my eyes, Adi was near perfect. He was passionate about life in a way that I rarely see in anyone these days, yet not a work-a-holic or social climber. He knew how to relax. Even in the relatively short time that we knew each other, I felt really comfortable around him, and he would allow me the space to grow and be myself without being too judgmental. We had a load of stuff in common and could just converse on nearly any topic. Our values were similar, and oh my gosh was he cute!  But then in the middle of all of this wonderfulness and hope, he meets someone new, and within a week is engaged to her.

I cried so hard. Felt so hurt, angry, frustrated, sad, lost…all sorts of intense feelings that were bouncing around my head and driving me insane. We were so great together! He has everything I’ve ever dreamed of, and is such a nice person as well. But wait…. Stop a moment Alyssa and look, listen. Do you really think that even if he decided to come back to you that you could trust him after he changed his mind about who he wanted to be with so quickly? Would you want to be in a relationship with someone you could not trust?  I shake my head, no. This is the reality of the situation, and I have chosen to stop and listen and hear it. I am very glad I did.

This ability to do a reality check has also been helping me in one of my most self destructive and life destroying habits; When something difficult happens, I tend to turn all my anger in on myself in the form of physical pain and mental self deprecation. Recently though, I’ve been catching myself when my mind starts to say all those horrible assumptions about me. Are those thoughts really true? Or is it just my delusions of habit playing tricks on me? Once that is done, I know I can stop those extremely destructive thoughts.  I’m getting better at it.

We make and choose our own happiness.

This is a great quote. It also comes in forms like ‘The power of positive thinking…’ and ‘Smile and the world will smile back!’ I have spent years upon years trying to make this work for me. Literally trying to squeeze a positive thought out of a misfortune to the point of probably looking constipated, or get involved with something new when I’m feeling down, except that when I’m feeling down everything seems absolutely hopeless beyond repair so what’s the point?!

On the roof - I really enjoy
 doing physical work

What was I missing? Why couldn’t I do this like everyone else seems to?  As it turns out, I just needed time and the right circumstances to figure it out. There are a lot of wonderful quotes out there, but to really understand them, I believe I need to have lived them myself. You can’t just choose to be happy one day. It must be cultivated. It must be cultivated through valuing yourself enough to treat yourself kindly and know how to meet your basic needs of respect and peace in your life, even if that means you must make compromises. It must be cultivated through doing things that truly make your heart soar, and by building a foundation of love (love for things that you do, and love for yourself among other things), so that when things do get tough, you have these habits solidly within yourself to call on.

This brings me to another quote that I love dearly and that I have misinterpreted until very recently. ‘Let the beauty of what you love be what you do’.  My dear friends, this has next to NOTHING to do with the work you do to put food on your table and a roof over your head (although if you are in a situation where it does, that is absolutely wonderful too!).

My name is pain I attach myself to your life temporarily, and nearly everybody in the world is afraid of me, but in reality there would be no self discovery and why would you need to have mercy without me, for all that you curse me you should never forget …

I’ve been away for a long time see… waiting for someone to rescue me… one woman came with a gift for me… go find yourself then come for me… but I’ve been away for too long you see… I’ve been away from the hurt in me… 

I have been learning that pain is a part of life. It cannot be avoided, and should definitely not be ignored. If you ignore it, it will just find its way back through a different route. It’s what makes us recognize the beautiful things as beautiful. Working through it and with it, and then knowing that I have the choice to let it go once I’ve visited with it is something very important. I think it will save me from much more pain in the long run. I don’t know or recall how I realized this, it just happened.

Afterall, it was through my pain in telling Adi goodbye that I got the inspiration to write this piece. And this is something I’ve wanted to bang out for a long time. It’s pretty meaningful to me. I don’t think I could have done it without the tears that gave me focus.

I also know that is isn’t Adi, who gave this to me. This is me who recognized and gave this opportunity to me. I am the one doing the work here. He was only a catalyst for the circumstances that brought me to this work.

Adi isn’t the only person I’ve lost recently. In the beginning of 2011, my heart and love of over four years decided to ‘take some time to himself’ and break off our plans to be married, to have a family, a home, support each other in our lives and ambitions. Truthfully I’m still reeling from it, though we are still in touch somewhat. I haven’t the strength yet to write the proverbial ‘letter’ and take care of my own needs above my desire to be with him and my love for him, like I know I will need to do eventually. But I think I’m on the way now.

No one else can hold onto my pain for me. No amount of crying to anyone else or anything someone else can do for me will heal me completely. I have to do most of this hard work on my own. And with this realization of having to do emotional work on my own, I have also taken to heart how important it is that I work for anything that I want, and take the consequences for my actions. I’m choosing not to go into detail on this topic, but as of late, I have an ever deepening sense that I can do this on my own. It doesn’t mean I will never accept or ask for help. The human race wouldn’t exist if we didn’t help and care for and support each other at times. But I know I can stand stronger now.

I suppose what I’m saying is, I wouldn’t ever dare discount the type of work that I’ve been doing these days from actual work. No amount of career ladder climbing, investing for retirement (which goes hand in hand with that nice career salary), or whatever else it was that I am “supposed to be doing at this age” could have taught me what I’m coming away with now. I believe had I paid attention to all those “should haves” I would not have been able to take the time to listen to my own self; the only teacher that is capable of understanding all these lessons for me.

 I’m the same girl, I look the same, I’m (pretty much) the same shape and the same color, but it’s my heart and my mind that I feel are starting to become a new fabric. If I keep going in the direction that I am headed now, no ‘career’ that I want to pursue will be too difficult to tackle (There will be times of extreme difficulty though I am sure of it). Over the past year and a half, I have given up and/or lost many things which were dear to me, I have lived on next to nothing and survived. I’ve failed miserably at relationships and jobs. I’ve had the time to stop and listen and learn more than I can even count about what is important to me and what I stand for.  I’ve learned to see what is real around me and act on it, and not my own delusions and fantasies. The majority of it has been incredibly painful.

But as these things I’m learning solidify,  so much more of the world is in my reach. Right now I have a sound mind, a healthy body, and a way to earn the roof over my head and the food that I eat. It’s not what I used to earn, and certainly doesn’t come with a retirement fund, but I will not be a burden.  I have my music and at least half the days of the year will not be gray and cloudy. 

Inspiration does exist; it just needs to find you working.

This is not the first time I've mentioned this quote … but this time, I ask you: What does ‘work’ mean to you? And who the hell are you, if nothing you think you ‘own’ is truly yours?

---

[1] Quotes are roughly transcribed from the Jaimie Catto music project called ‘1 Giant Leap’ and ‘What about Me?’

Looking back: My first week on the road

This piece was written over the course of my first week on the road - August 27th, 2010 :

I’m sitting on the bank of the Mississippi River in La Cross, Wisconsin with a wonderful urge to move and dance around. That’s the thing about being on the road, leaving things behind and being in transition. Time constraints (with the exception of getting to a certain place on a given night if your sleeping arrangements depend on that) fade away. You can do what you like. Be who you like. Act as you like, and know that you’re just passing through. I have a much stronger urge to take exceptional care of myself, maybe because I am far more alone than I have ever been in my life and I need myself to depend on. But I also have a very strong sense that those close to my heart are not too far away.

A silhouette of my lovely green parrot

Sometimes I feel an intense sense of loneliness and wish for everything familiar; lake Michigan, the parrot, my friends just a short bus ride away. All the places that I know, the comfort of my own home and my own bed. And then I look at myself and realize where I am now, I really am OK. I have a wonderful ability to create my own zone of peace wherever I go, whether it be within my head through good memories or through little mementos from home or by just enjoying what is around me right now at the moment and finding a peaceful place to be. It’s not always easy, and often takes some searching; searching for the right song to calm my mind, reorganizing my things so I have the right mementos right with me, or seeking out a peaceful wherever I am. Sometimes there awakens a little instinct inside me to awaken my old defense mechanisms and run to someone who can help comfort me. But I don’t because I don’t need it. All I need to do is get out and look around and listen to my body, because my body knows what it needs to be calm and at peace.

And so I’m sitting on the bank of the Mississippi River in La Crosse, Wisconsin, and just saw my first river barge. It’s HUGE, well, ridiculously LONG (500 ft?), and is being pushed by a tug. The interesting thing is that just about 15 minutes earlier I saw a lone tug, which I presume moves ahead of the long barge and scouts out the bends in the river and then turns around to help the barge turn should it need to. 

This is cool! 

I love seeing new things!

One thing I learned in Minnesota: don’t mess with the country roads. Another thing I learned in South Dakota;  let them surprise you. I’ve been avoiding the interstate highways for the most part, although sometimes I’ve become a little too zealous with trying to stop at too many out of the way places in too short a time. I ended up circling around the same 50 mile radius area for about two hours in MN before I was able to get back on track.  On the other hand, here I am in the Black Hills, where I let a tiny dirt road plotted on my route surprise me by depositing me at the old frontier For Meade National Cemetery. I am alone herein the late morning haze. I often like to stop by cemeteriesa, especially older ones for the forlorn sense of calm that tends to envelop them. Ironically, it is raining. At this particular cemetery are buried soldiers from the Indian wars in the 1870’s until 1940’s when the fort closed down. The history is rich and I got a number of books to read on it as well as one of the horseshoes from the original cavalry regiments that worked at the fort.

Missouri River - Platte, SD

Sailboats. Wind. The grasshopper grave yard on my radiator. The profound peace of ranch country on highway SD-44. The majesty of the Missouri River near Platte, SD. The strength and silence of the Badlands at dusk. No fear. Just a feeling of great protection.

One of the most fantastic parts about being on the road alone is that no one is your boss, you have no time table, and really you can take as much time as you’d like to do whatever feels right and pleases you best. Sometimes, where the ranchland stretches for as far as one can see, I’ll get out and just sit for a while. I passed through many tiny towns, usually no more than a general store and sometimes a gas station, but often not even that. Sometimes it’s just a lone saloon on a run down street of ‘has been’ buildings in ill repair. There was Witten, SD, pop. 87, and Buffalo, not much bigger.

I visted Badlands National Park. It was late afternoon by the time I arrived. A little tip: if you go in late and leave late, it’s free. I’m not going to write too much down about the park at night. You’ll just have to go and experience it for yourself. The approach in itself was almost haunting. I arrived from the south where they gray expanse of cliffs and pinnacles seemed almost foreboding, stretching between the endless sky and the forgiving green of the ranchlands and buttes. The wind is howling around you and the only sign of civilization is the roach, on which you have not seen a car for the past hour. And then suddenly, there’s Interior, SD, the run down south entry point into the park and highly recommended over Wall on the other side, which came off to me as a busy tourist mecca almost robbing the experience of wildness and beauty from the entrance to the park.

Sailing, South Dakota

I arrived in the badlands via Yankton, SD, where I stayed with the most dear and wonderful hosts, Thane and Brenda Paulson of Sioux Falls. They not only opened their home to me, but also their sailboat. I am so greateful for the trust they gave to me when they put me to work on the boat for a night sail, and then in preparation for the race down the Missouri river. I remember asking a billion questions and learning about how and why the wind works around the sails. I remember hoisting the main sail and helping open up the sloop sail, learning about real and apparent wind direction and riding, legs over the guard rail on the bow of the boat into the moonlight. I slept better than I had in years that night to the gentle rocking of the boat in the harbor. Sailing is on my list of things to explore more. I’ll be looking for a way to do that. I ended up leaving quite early in the morning to a route recommended by Thane and Brenda down rte. 44 from Yankton to Rapid City.

They said it would be beautiful, but I’ve been learning more and more to keep my expectations open. I had no idea that just beyond Platte, SD, I would meet the mighty Missouri River, which approached from above gives an unprecedented  view of vastness and power of the water and the valley below. Snaking around the bend from rte. 44 on the east side of the river, I found a quite park, where amongst a grandma and her two grandkids, stripped down to my underwear and swam and flipped and splashed in the water, the same water that Louis and Clark touched 200 years prior.

Wild Horses, North Dakota

I’ve always had a tendency to want to optimize what I see and do; To plan it out just right so that I’ll get the best parts. But really, everything that ends up happening turns out to be stunning in its own, surprising way. I reached Theodore Roosevelt National Park around 5pm on Monday, August 30^th. A storm was brewing, and I forged into the park just as the few remaining visitors were leaving. It was here that, as the rain abated, I told the earth, the sky, the clouds, the sun, the river, the rain and the creatures on the land and the air that smelled of sage and sweet grass, in a voice that was not quiet, that I AM ALIVE! I AM OK! And I LOVE YOU! And the sky, and the clouds and the sun and the air answered with the fullest rainbow I have ever seen; a full rainbow from horizon to horizon, and my first North Dakota Eagle. I stayed in the park until late that night, met some wild horses plodding along the road, which I watched for quite some time before heading out.

It’s daylight now, and I am sitting along the little Missouri River, the hills of the badlands stretching in front of me, the sky blue, and the wind in my hair. I met the horses again, ambling down the road and then galloping across the field in front of me down to the river, where they turned and looked before heading down the bank to get a drink. One has not seen true freedom until they have seen the wild horse, of this I am sure.

A storm near Buffalo, ND

In a place like this, amongst the buttes of the badlands, the prairie dogs (and their little high pitched barks), the wild horses, the scent of sage and the wind in the grass, you just wish that these moments would go on forever. You want to stay, you want to find a way to come back, or live here forever. You want to hold onto it and make it last. But like most things in life, there’s a time to let go of this too. To pass through and be full of love and thanks for what you have been where you have been and what you have felt. And then you move on, and new things, lovely things, magical things, will always join you on the way. There will be many difficult things too. But there will also be magic.

Often, I’ll stand in the grasses, the wild ranchland spreading out in front of me and imagine what it would have been to live out here on the planes, under the shadows of the grand imposing buttes with the wind at your back on horseback, as an Indian or as a settler. The earth here has so many stories to tell.

Someone I spoke with in passing told me I should make sure I have a radio with me at all time, because folks from the city, they can’t stand the silence. But I think I crave it. Even here though, in the park, it’s hard to escape the sound of a car passing in the distance or even an occasional airplane overhead. I can’t put down the wonderfulness of technology (for here I am amongst the grasses and rocks typing on my little pocket sized computer), but there have been many times when I choose not to bring a camera, or even the binoculars because I just want to be there. I want to come here and stay for days, explore by foot and by horseback. I’ve never been so content as when I am outside.