Wednesday, April 24, 2013

Hold On...

Hold on to what is good, even if it is a handful of earth...
Hold on to life, even when it is easier than letting go...

Some things bear repeating. Like that Navajo poem. :)  
I'm in Milwaukee, Wisconsin tonight.  I need to be getting to sleep soon (very soon!) but I was thinking about this. 

This little glass cube has been sitting on my desk since 2009, any job I've had where a desk was involved. I love it. It's my little...terrarium? My piece of New Mexico that I took home with me.  I dug up some red earth on the road trip we took around the Southwest when my sister graduated from college.  I threw in some souvenir rocks (hence the big hole in the one) and a teeny tiny pine cone I found. It kind of started as a joke.

I think it was before that I used that Navajo poem as the signature in my emails. The other day, anticipating this trip, I thought about it and smiled.  "Hold on to what is good, even if it is a handful of earth..."
And it is good.  And it's...literally, a handful of earth. 

See the thing is, this silly little box of dirt reminds me of my biggest adventure to date. It reminds me of exploring and baking in the sun.  Getting to know somewhere new, and knowing that it was some part of me I hadn't known I was missing. 

It reminds me of the people that I got to know who I can't wait to see again, and of how hard it was sometimes out there, but how every time I stepped out into the canyons or stood on the top of a mountain or mesa...I knew it was right. I felt freer than I had ever felt. 

Tonight, I thought of this again, and I smiled. I know that tomorrow, we'll descend with the Sandias in sight, over miles and miles of wide open spaces where I could run from sunup to sundown and never see another soul.  I know that the sun will sit just over my shoulder and keep me warm.  I know that I can let go of here and the things that hurt my heart and keep me up, even if it's just for a little while.  I know I'm going home. The home that found me.

I can't wait.

Sunday, April 21, 2013

Wordgasbord


The picture is as unrelated as the rest of this post may seem in general.  I've got many things swimming around in my head and they're just not all...related.  And probably not all worthy of their own place, so here we are. Prepare for a jumble-up of things.

I think...I might see myself as the goose in this picture.

I just put the last piece of my New Mexico trip together.  This is none too soon as I'll be headed there Wednesday. On Friday night I got in touch with my lovely host who has also volunteered to be the driver for more adventures than I even knew I had coming.  It was awesome, and it made it seem real.  I mean, I knew in my head it was real since the day I bought the tickets, but it was more of a way to cope, as weird as that sounds. It gave me something good to hang on to.  It's the promise of something that's mine, that I love, that...(honk!honk!) isn't gonna hurt me.  Having it to hang on to has helped me have something to do, something to look forward to, and just...something that's  mine. I don't like the "mine mine mine" thing in general, but I think this time, this trip...has to be mine.

Of course, as soon as I put the final pin in it, and booked the last thing I needed to, I immediately went to bed that night anxious.  I thought it was just me, and I found out from at least 2 separate people today that it isn't...but I usually get trip dread.  No matter how much I originally looked forward to something, it'll be a day or two before I'm actually supposed to go and I will suddenly dig my heels in, cross my arms over my chest and go "I.don't.wanna."  It's always real when it's happening- I should know by now that it's just a...knee-jerk phase that will pass, but at the time, my brain thinks it's reality.  I shouldn't go.  I'm not going.  This was a bad idea. I don't want to go.

The trip dread came around fairly early, which I'm going to count as a good thing. Because now that the panic/dread is over I can concentrate on what I need to get done and not worry about it.

I wonder why it is that happens, you know?  I know full well that I'm going on this trip because I *need* this trip.  I know I'm going because I need a place and a space to heal.  Because I need something that's mine. Maybe it's just resistance to change and it's programmed in.  I think it has to be something like that, because as much as my heart is absolutely waiting to breathe in the whole thing, this crazy dread overrode even that.

Which got me thinking...even when change is a good thing. Even when it's temporary...we resist.  When good things come our way, sometimes our impulse is just to shut the door.  Because good things are scary.  Some would say scarier than bad. The heights are only frightening because we know how far they are from the ground, and how much it'd hurt to fall to it.

Right now, I feel this way more intensely. I'm more about shut doors than open ones.  And yes, my internet was down for 2 weeks straight and that's really a big player in why I didn't write...but...it's also because I'm afraid of good right now. Afraid to let my heart run wild. Or even take a few steps.

I ran across this today:

"Ships are always safe in harbor, but that's not what ships are for."

(Ignore American history for a second, just go with me)

We talked today about speaking up or not speaking up.  Do or do not. To be or not to be. I'm watching so much heartbreak and sadness and still trying to figure out my own.

It's easier to hide. It's easier to stay inside under the blankets and watch tornado shows for 2 weeks straight. (not that I would know...).  It's easier to fall back to bad habits, to get self destructive or reckless, and to stay exactly where you are because even though you're miserable, it's familiar.

It's easier, but it's not what ships are for.

It's not what life is for.
It's not what I want for my life.
It's not what I want for the lives of people I love.
I don't know where you're at, or who's reading this and what you're going through.
But don't let the dread stay too long.  Don't let sad and dark and broken keep you from life.
And don't think I have it figured out. I don't.  I just know I want to figure it out.

The TL:DR is here, folks: (I can't really say it better than the Navajo did way, way before I got here)

Hold on to what is good even if it is a handful of earth. 
Hold on to what you believe even if it is a tree which stands by itself. 
Hold on to what you must do even if it is a long way from here. 
Hold on to life even when it is easier letting go. 
Hold on to my hand even when I have gone away from you.