life as i know it...

riding the waves...

There are days, moments even, when I feel unexplainably drawn to people from my past.  Memories surge forth like unexpected tidal waves, crashing over me and causing a feeling of disorientation.  In these moments, I experience a sense of bewilderment.  Oftentimes, I feel overwhelmed and desperate to discover the meaning lying beneath the monsoon of emotions.  I am flooded by a sea of experiences long since past, taken back in time, months or years or more than a decade, in pensive recollections. 

 

I am prone to analyzing every nuance of life experiences, particularly the ones that occur unexpectedly and without warning.  A single moment can take me full-force on a spiraling journey of reflective introspection.  I question and wonder, exploring every seeming possibility until I have exhausted my mind.  I cling to the mysteries held within those moments, part of me afraid to let go until I have uncovered at least the outline of the hidden puzzle.  The most difficult part is accepting that some mysteries are simply not meant to be deconstructed.

 

For the most part, I try to live my life in the here-and-now.  Intellectually, I recognize that too much focus upon the past or the future is not only unhealthy, but also an unfulfilling way of living in the world.  However, despite my best attempts to embrace the present, there are those moments that creep into my awareness, startling me into reveries and disrupting the natural flow of my existence. 

 

Tonight, I feel like the tide being pulled out to sea, waves of fragmented memories interrupting my thoughts.  Rather than fighting this historical influx of experiences, I am allowing myself to float along the surface of the water.  I am riding the waves of memory, at moments catapulted to the ocean’s depths before resurfacing and catching another breath of fresh, salty air.

 

Floating on my back, I look up and see the brilliant blue of a summer sky.  I can feel the soft grains of sand beneath my back and the warmth of the Caribbean sun bathing my bare skin.  I hear a familiar voice beside me, that voice the embodiment of excitement and youthful, carefree abandon.  I hear the sounds of laughter and bliss.  I smell coconut and suntan oil and the aroma of happiness. 

 

A wave crashes over me and I find myself blindly searching for light in the darkness of the water.  I hear words, spitting betrayal and hostility.  I feel a hand slip from mine and the physical pain of heartbreak and disappointment makes me feel as if I am drowning.  Struggling to find my sense of direction, I fight back, desperate for the solace I know can be found just beyond the surface.  With every ounce of strength, I make my way upward, the feel of air rushing into my body a temporary reprieve.

 

My head is above the surface now, but I still feel as if my breath is caught in my throat.  There are butterflies in my stomach and the world begins to spin a bit as I try to understand the immense power of the moment.  I can see someone on the shoreline and miraculously, without effort, I feel myself being pulled toward the beauty of this companion on the beach.  I am so close that I can feel our breaths intermingling in the air, now cooled by an autumn breeze.  Reaching out, I feel our skin touch for a brief moment, and then the moment is gone.

 

I am on the shore alone now, my clothes too heavy for the fragility I feel in the wake of an inevitable separation.  I strip away the clothes, longing for relief from the burden of exhaustion my body is still holding.  But the discomfort persists and I feel as though the water has clogged every pore of my skin.  I can no longer feel the breeze or the sand.  I only feel confusion and regret at words left unspoken in that silent good-bye.

 

Gradually, I feel myself coming back alive.  The salty drops of ocean and tears have dried, leaving my skin with feelings of purity and newness.  I can see vibrant-colored cloths blowing in the wind and hear the tranquil sound of nature creating a haven around me.  I am no longer floating on the water’s surface, but instead sitting upon the polished deck of a boat.  The sultry air kisses my face and I realize I am heading Home.

dancing with angels...

The night was quiet, bathed in peaceful silence under a blanket of white.  The darkness was lit only by streetlights, those picture-perfect lamp posts of decades past casting yellow halos that skirted down to the river's edge.  In a city of mystery and anonymity, I exhaled, watching the visible puffs of air escape my body, entering a world filled with the unexpected.  In that moment, I forgot how to worry.  Drinking in gulps of the cold midnight wind, I witnessed a transformation.  Amidst magic and dreams, I felt the snowflakes catch in my eyelashes and tilted my head back to taste the sweetness of Nature's miracle.

Dancing in that empty, darkened street, I found a piece of myself that I thought had long since disappeared.  I felt the burning embers of courage rising within me, tiny sparks gathering strength until the full flame of my spirit soared above the lamp posts and the falling snow.  It was as if twenty years had vanished, erasing the lines and cracks etched upon the eyes and hearts of two grown women.  In that moment, we were two little girls, best friends from a time before we knew each other or the future that would lead us to that magical night when a winter wonderland was all our innocent eyes could see.  Clad in pajamas and winter coats, we claimed the night, the city, and the freshly fallen snow.  Laughter punctuated the silence, easing the physical and emotional pains of two hearts, each on their own path of healing. 

That night was not the beginning of a friendship, but it was the embodiment and discovery of another layer in a bond that already existed.  Hearts were set free that night and although the street appeared empty, I am certain there were many angels dancing with us among the beauty of those early morning hours.  Eventually, we left the snow behind in favor of warmth and sleep.  But the memories will never be left behind.  We carried those memories with us as we traveled onward, embracing a shared sense of feminine wildness.  Pushing beyond the limits of fear and expectations, we paved our own path on a pilgrimage of novel explorations.  And while our return home was inevitable, the memories and the gifts I found along our journey will always stay with me.

the pleasures of the unexpected...

It has been a long month, filled with excitement and exhaustion.  My travels have taken me through 12 states and Canada.  Down crowded, noisy freeways and along quiet, rural roads, I have felt the exhilirating thrill of adventure and the comforting solace of Nature's serenity.  With heightened senses, I have embraced the unique nuances of places to which I never imagined my journey might lead.  But my journey has been filled with the unexpected and I know that the future has yet to be determined. 

In the midst of unknown places and brief moments of exploration, I found more than just the means of reaching a destination.  I found courage to surpass my fears.  I found beauty in the unexpected.  I found kinship in the quiet moments and blissful enchantment in a world where magic lifted me from the realms of reality and sent me soaring to heights I never dared to dream. 

I found knowledge and history in the streets of Philadelphia and images of a simple life of quaint pleasures in the rolling hills of rural Pennsylvania.  In Massachusetts, I was beckoned by the silent call of the harbor.  Upstate New York welcomed me with a hospitality that rivaled all I've known and loved in the deep South.  In Florida, I expected to feel at home, surprised by the sense of detachment that accompanied a more familiar destination.  Through the southern beauty of Tennessee and Virginia, I learned to breathe again and to trust the direction of the road, as well as the direction of my body.  Maryland was a mixture of extremes, lulling me briefly before tossing me back upon a path of chaotic commotion.  In Kentucky, I danced in a midnight blizzard and found my heart once again opening to the passions of art and words.  And finally, I fell in love in West Virginia.  Surrounded by snow-capped mountains, I found pleasure walking down icy sidewalks of downtown streets and perusing books amongst the aroma of freshly brewed coffee.  In a restaurant painted in warmth and streaks of eccentricity, I savored the taste of organic food and vegetables fresher than anything that has ever touched my hungry lips.  And at last, at the top of a mountain, I let go of so much that has held me back in life.  I let go, embracing the snowy trail before me, cherishing the courage and promises I found in those moments of freedom and moonlit abandon.

Now, I sit here at home, in a place of familiarity and learned comforts.  But I am still holding those moments and all that I learned across the many miles of the past month.  I'm still falling in love, but this time, I'm learning to love myself, the world, and the pleasures of the unexpected.