Yesterday I spent many, many hours driving through Kansas. And then…mountains! I don’t have any words for the experience that haven’t already been written. To drive for so long through all of that vast flatness and then, to glimpse the super-dramatic mountains of Colorado is just startling and wonderful. Humbling and exciting.
Time is looping back on itself on my trip. It’s folding, and I’m touching the edges of every other transition I have ever made in the past. I feel like if I concentrated hard enough I could reach out and brush past my former self, the one who was driving east back in 2000. She would be fraught and churning and in so much pain (busy pretending like she wasn’t), and wouldn’t want me to touch her. Me who has such compassion for her, for how lost she was. Oh no, she wouldn’t like that at all, she would be offended and prickly if anyone dared have compassion for her.
But another transition time was on my mind when I saw the mountains. I thought another move, four years ago. When I was leaving behind so much heartache, so much loss. Starting a new life with nothing. I had a theme song for that time, the lyrics were my mantra (oh, and let’s table the shocking revelation of my secret love of country music):
If you’re going through hell
Keep on going, don’t slow down
If you’re scared, don’t show it
You might get out
Before the devil even knows you’re there
When I saw the mountains I knew I needed to hear that song again so I found it on my ipod. As I listened, it occurred to me that speeding toward the Rocky Mountains was the polar opposite of running away from the life I felt trapped in at that time.
Back then, these words spoke to me because I hoped that if I kept busy, kept moving forward, that I might be able to shortcut the transformation process. And something needed to keep me moving forward. But there was no getting out easy. It wasn’t until I embraced the fact that I was in the underworld that I was able to find my way out.
Looking at the mountains I realized that there is no escaping these dark winters. These cycles are built into our DNA, into our connection with the earth and its seasons. Sure, they may not need to be so dramatic, but we all do our time in the underworld. And then…
Spring eventually comes, every time.
Hell yeah!
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So lovely, woman.
So lovely.
Really long drives are always interesting. So much time to reflect. Sounds like the insights are sneaking through the weariness.
Hope they continue, and you stay energized. Sending the puppy some patience for the process—
How awesome. Loved this post. *waving at you as you pass through my state* Hope the rest of the trip is going so well.
I love reading your blog as you travel, I feel as though I’ve been taken along for the trip, such a treat.
Aw, thanks guys! It means a lot that you were reading
And now I’m finally heeeeere!!! Phewf.
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