Since early this year, I've been silent. Journals with blank pages stacked up in corners while I take a borrowed dog on long hikes near the river. We didn't have a winter, and the dog and I have a shared love of the nearly empty trail and muddy bank. I throw the sticks and she swims to get them, but I don't congratulate her or call her name, we just hike. Every 15 minutes or so she comes back from bolting ahead to place her nose into the palm of my hand and let me know I am her human, even though I'm not, really.
I don't know why I needed the space. It's not my normal barrage of excuses all involving some sort of depression. Sometimes I wake up really early and wonder if my spirit animal is not an owl, but a possum. I sure can relate to freezing up in the middle of the road, eyes wide, than I can of any other animal who feels fear.
About two weeks ago I picked up a pen and started writing again, and now, like before, it has become a necessity. I've been putting my stories away, not sharing them with friends because there is a statute of limitations on pieces of your life. In order to move forward, you might have to acknowledge the past but you certainly don't have to let it swallow you whole.
This is where I am. Letting go. And yeah, sometimes I wonder if 'lettting go' is actually 'giving up'. Resignation. So I worry about this for a little while each day. But then I pick up my lists and start making plans to prove to the world and myself that I'm still in here. I want to hike the Grand Canyon, all the way across. I want to find a new job because I often feel like I've overstayed my welcome at the one that I have. My neighbor was fired recently by her boss of 12 years, and we sit sometimes and think about what happens when decisions are made for you before you make them. Fear: the great motivator.
Once again I find myself aligned with you, throwing shit against the wall because neither of us want to become what people close to us have:stuck. Routine. For me, it's college classes where I try to use my brain again on things unrelated to accounting. And solo trips to the beach and the mountains for a day or two each weekend, mostly to write and take pictures. For you, travel writing and plans to head to NC. I root for you as hard as I root for myself. I know what we're up against inside of our minds and I am not sure of a LOT of things, but I AM sure of this: we can do it.
In my own life coaching sessions with Dad, I've come to realize that the fear I carry around is heavy, and my body and spirit can no longer afford to carry it. I think you feel this too.
Let's move forward, shall we? What the hell.