Chasing Life…and So It Begins
Travel opens up more roads in our lives than only those beneath our feet and rolling wheels.
Under cover of darkness, I quietly carried my get-away bags to my car. Not wanting to wake my children for more goodbyes, I spoke a prayer asking God to watch over them and keep them safe while I was away.
My journey started in the early hours when I thrive on being productive. My GPS held my destination along, and I held back up printed maps from Mapquest I did use on more than one digital blackhole freeway debacle.
As I kept a steady pace and passed some semis, I feared being swallowed by the monstrous big rigs. My tiny automobile could easily be swept under one, never to be seen again. Abracadabra, poof!
This adventure across different states was meant to challenge my inner strength and mental and emotional needs and reveal some missing pieces in my life.
My gaze was fixated on my first sunrise on the road. A magnificent view painted softly as if a Q-tip outlined the treetops on the horizon in hues of ripe tangerines, seamlessly melting upward into faint yellows, like when a deep bruise is almost fully healed.
The sun rising began with a whisper to an almighty crescendo right before me yet surrounding me with its gentle power.
As feelings turned to thoughts and phrases, I pulled out a stack of index cards and 1/4 size pencil I keep in my middle console and set a pile in my lap. I began scribbling almost illegibly, even to me, atop my steering wheel by the dim overhead light on the driver’s side of the car.
It was a revival journey laid to rest in the struggles of my youth and reinforced by a shattered sense of safety in this world after 9/11.
My travels began solo and ended the same with cherished friend time in the middle of my trip.
As I observed in this reemergent time, I transformed furthest from a seasoned traveler but a newborn as I watched people, robust communities, and landscapes. I was familiar with it in my past but now evoke joyful tears in the detail of the magnificent architecture and dripping historical sweat from ancient churches and heights of steeples and buildings.
Random humans were no longer strangers. I called them by name from the gas station clerk, grocery stock person, concierge, gym attendant, and farmer’s market vendor I met along the way. We all have a story; behind our smiles or stares, voices or silence, we write our own history as more unfolds.
My Day 1 didn’t feel as early as when my awakening to this life should’ve begun. My time away lasted 8 days, but it felt like my spirit was coming home in a way that hugged my soul.
When children first stand up and attempt to walk, they wobble and waiver till they get their footing. Falls and tumbles head first are inevitable, but they most often keep moving forward. Then, sure enough, they risk their first step not looking back but only looking forward to where they desire to go.
I found my footing, held long and sturdy and continued to move forward. When in doubt, I’m a Weeble Wobble, but I still pray I won’t fall down.
To be honest and blunt, I have absolutely no sense of direction. I’m a character who would have to fully disassemble a 20-fold paper map, throw it on the ground, and stand on it to find the direction I need to go.
I ventured out each morning with a sturdy multi-functional map in hand from the hotel staff. They were kind and attentive to my questions, confusion, and excitement about learning anything when I stepped out their doors. I joked if I don’t make it back by midnight, send help, or maybe don’t.
I had no set plan besides following where my heart and mind open and my feet take me. The breeze off Lake Michigan became an old friend taking care of me in the mild mornings and the hotter times of the day.
With each step, the multitude of buildings drew near, towering over me. I wanted to reach up, run my hand over the stone, and feel the curvatures and detail in the designs in what was only called a window. Beauty is entwined with simplicity and purpose. I began to see the form of the city as if I could take my pencil, hear the stories, and outline each piece of its history.
I didn’t know another human there but stood on a street corner waiting to cross with a crowd shouldered near. I smiled and only thought, “Yes.”
It wasn’t significant how many places I saw or stores I visited. I didn’t turn back. Whether fear, getting lost, unknown factors, or doubt in me, I kept going. My wandering dawdles preserved my energy till arriving back at the hotel, dinner in hand from a local market, with waves of greetings from the staff inquiring about how my day turned out.
Maybe perspective can be gifted to you by environments, events, or absence. I realized my thinking never obstructed the unknown path or held me back from discovering the needs I had sacrificed or neglected to fully experience living.
The end of my third day is when my life-long friend arrived. We both traveled from other states but immediately felt at home in our presence, conversation, laughing, and care for each other. You can’t replace friends who have known you longer than you think you can remember.
We didn’t need the location to share our precious time together. Still, it was exciting to stumble onto newfound treasure spots for us.
Listening, sharing, and laughing reminded me how important it is to reach out to friends, old or new, to make that connection and support each other. I am eternally grateful for this cherished time.
Our next trip idea will most assuredly continue in future conversations.
My second to last night before heading back to my house, many miles away, came too swiftly.
Evening’s close was ushered in on the ripples of the waves by returning boats and jet skis commanded by expressive smiles in warm conversations and cheers of all ages.
I watched in such delight I couldn’t hold in my smile. I celebrated them and me, and even though I was dancing alone, oh, how much sweeter the music played for me.
May I lay the breadcrumbs of memories along my path so one day soon, I will find my way back. The infinite number of locations that slowed my heart to find its rest will be replicated in my mind to ease the strife in my daily life.
I finally accepted the calm, peaceful invitation to welcome my mind home.
I returned to my stone step writing spot one last time to listen to the waves and city noise serenade me while my words spilled all over my journal pages. I bid my goodnight and farewell to the more familiar sun and moon.
In a reluctant departure, as I drove away, my eyes fell to gaze at the city’s landscape brushing the top of my shoulder at 3:00 am.
I thank God for the 4:30 am 6 miles of road work noise that felt like I was riding the shoulder just for kicks. “Dunk, dunk, dunk…” keeping me wide awake. I wasn’t tired from an early start but from a lifetime late for restarting.
To begin again is just that, a fresh start. I can’t wait for right now. I can’t wait for today. I can start living beyond my mind, home, and heart borders.
This journey was the first experience in so long that I didn’t feel a need to control it. I just needed it to start. I had arrived and opened my eyes, listened to my heart, and followed where my spirit led me.
I applaud my sore back, tired feet, amateur photos, long journal entries, and random scribbled index cards when my mind is flooded with evolving feelings. These were all medals of honor I carry inside me.
Thank you for keeping in step with me while my healing mind traveled more miles than my car or my feet endured.
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