Saturday, September 13, 2014

(I'm A) Road Runner

As the seasons start to change, I seem to start a period of transformation to. My entire life has been a twisty, turny, winding hilly road-taking me on an incredible journey. Sometimes I have traveling companions, sharing in laughter and tears. We may be on a pilgrimage, like in the Canterbury Tales, where when we reach our destination we realize the trip was what it was all about. Other times, I have walked alone. I may have embraced the solitude, enjoying the silence and the refuge from all the noise and clutter that surrounds our lives. Other times, it's been a lonely path. 
How my soul cried out in those moments.
No matter what the circumstances, to keep myself amused on this journey, I told stories. I told stories that made others-and myself-laugh. Sometimes tears flowed. Sometimes both happened at the same time. Many of these stories lacked a happy ending. Some seem like fairy tales-things are too good to be true. How can these things possibly be-how could YOU of all people have these things happen to you? Others were tragedies, where once I was done telling them I was emotionally spent. There are many, many happy stories too, but they remain at the back of the book. Few want to hear those, as many want to hear your pain, to walk away from the campfire in a cloak of schadenfreude.
Occasionally, I would fall down a hole, trapping myself in darkness as I tried desperately to claw my way back to the surface. Back to being on the road again. Each time it happened, there was a little more pain. It hurts hitting the bottom of that hole. It's scary down there. You can't see what you are up against. Most times, it never saw the hole coming either. I was just walking along when the earth beneath me would suddenly give way. I would tell myself, just let go, enjoy the fall, let yourself fly. My heart knew that intrinsically. My head would stop that all. My head made me scream and panic as I plunged. I would grasp at roots and rocks as I plunged, but I could never hold on long enough. 
Crawling up and out is much harder than falling in. You are bruised and bloodied. There is a lot of pain involved, sometimes caused by the fall. Other times, you are hurt because of bumping around in the darkness, looking for a quick and easy way out. The climb causes pain too. You are ever reaching upward, stretching muscles, tissue and fascia that aren't used to being moved that way. Once you reach the surface, you look down in shame at your tattered clothing because it's evidence of being in that pit. It's unfortunate, because you miss out on the exhilaration of conquering that climb. You did it, you should be congratulated, you've succeeded. Instead, you see broken fingernails and dirt.
There's music on my journey, as it should be on any proper road trip. It's a varied soundtrack, diverse as the day is long. There's great music for those quiet moments, symphonies and angelic choirs. Other times, it's a virtual dance party as I ease on down, ease on down the road. Angry music-that hardcore, throaty, screaming-takes hold at other times. Occasionally, I get stuck on repeat. There are songs, that even though I don't like them very much, I keep playing over and over. Top 40, pop songs take hold from time to time, even though I don't quite get it or like it, I play it because I want to be like everyone else. Listening to the songs from my youth crop up, and those feelings of nostalgia wash over me like rain. How wonderful the journey was back then. Back then I was this and this and this and the road was so smooth and perfect. It really wasn't, but when you're looking in the rear view mirror, everything looks flat and endless. The worst are the sad songs. The ones that hit you in the gut and tear ducts. The ones that cause great wails and gnashing of teeth. Sometimes it's cathartic, other times it just lingers on.
There are many detours on this journey. Some are a welcome respite. We all need those moments to slow down, breathe and just be. Wandering in the woods or drinking from those living waters are what the soul needs. Other times, what seemed like a shortcut, turns out to lead far off the path. Sometimes, it seemed as if I'd never find my way back. In the end, I always have, but there are times I wasn't sure I would. In those moments, there weren't road signs. I would be hopelessly lost. Finally, at the last possible moment, the internal gps would go off and guide me back to my road.

I'm on this road, switching from the express lane to the slow one. I'm signaling to move over, into the right, and let those things that like to tailgate me-insecurity, fear, ego-pass me by. I see ahead, on the horizon, endless. I'm finally enjoying the journey, sightseeing on the way.
May this road rise up to meet me.


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