| The real voyage of discovery consists not is seeing new lands, but seeing with new eyes. – Marcel Proust |
| Soon it would be August. More and more I was feeling that my city was becoming too small. Or what may be more accurate – I was becoming too small. Leaves would soon be changing to russets and golds, the temperature would be dropping. I wanted to prolong summer. It was a good and necessary time for me to leave – to let go of the out-lived. I knew no better way than time and distance. Yes, you have to be happy in your own kitchen, but there are also times when it is also good to get out of the kitchen, especially when there’s nothing for dinner. In truth, I needed to work on my faith. But more importantly, my ego needed to go for a drive. From significance to not. |
| Makes “Me Wanna Roll My Windows Down” |
| The world is a big place and there were miles of open road untrodden. So with a wholehearted willingness to inhabit my own inner contradictions, I choose roads leading me to better than inclement weather, living where there’s an actual threat of losing fingers while shovelling two feet of snow off a sidewalk. |
| Along with packing a floppy hat, eye-mask and three pairs of olive green socks, there was one one rather awkward item which I would have preferred to leave behind (or perhaps lose along the way) – myself. No matter how far and how fast we go, it stubbornly remains our constant companion. |
But as I severely reminded myself, a defeat is better than nothing at all, as you can’t know or understand anything without experiencing it.
An end always creates a new beginning – and any action has a reaction. These are an indisputable laws.
Things will be here when I return, but I hope to see them with new eyes. At least that’s what Proust hoped.
We need courage to make ourselves voluntarily homeless. Sometimes it is impossible to still the insistent voice inside, the voice that reminds us that our time on this earth is short.
Or maybe, though it may break our heart to admit it, we may feel we are not deeply or correctly loved, slowly despairing that our partner will ever appreciate that it is not appropriate to eat sauced asparagus with your fingers.
I mean, we do need to uphold the values that we want to prevail in our inner sanctum.
Like Odysseus longing for Ithaka, we may need to leave until the place we live in, is once again able to actively honour what home should always have been.
| Even at the sharpest edge of things, there are wings. |
| So I’m off – in search of sanctuaries in my monastery on wheels, urging me towards detachment. I knew they wouldn’t be hard to find heading towards an ocean with the certitude of craggy mountains and lush forests, rushing rivers and waterfalls, caves and womb-dark grottos. |
| Solitude is not difficult. I relished it. I desired it. I required it. The point is I was alone and I wanted it this way. One is not required to speak to a soul, until you need to order a tall extra hot cappuccino to go. |
| I know, I’m the envy of least two of my friends. |
| By the way, If you are interested in exactly where I am going, do not phone my cell or my enemies will be alerted. Instead head to your nearest bus stop. There will be a man reading the Calgary Sun and wearing a purple hat. Ask him for a glass of juice. If he responds with, “Yes, it is a sunny day”, he is my associate and will give you a sealedI know, I’m the envy of least two of my friends.envelope containing the exact location of my destination. If he is not there, or does not respond with that – run. |
Julia Cameron writes, “An artist must have downtime, time to do nothing. Defending our right to such time take courage, conviction and resiliency. Such time, space, and quiet will strike our family and friends as a withdrawal from them. It is. For an artist, withdrawal is necessary. Without it, an artist is vexed, angry, out of sorts. If such deprivation continues, our artist become sullen, depressed, hostile…An artist requires the upkeep of creative solitude. An artist requires the healing of time alone.” |
Ah, that would explain many of my moods. It’s always reassuring to cite someone famous that can exalt crabbiness in 12 pt. Garamond.
Someone once gave me a Chance Monopoly card that reads, “Get out of Drama Free.” I keep this near.
I could also point a finger at Jesus. He seemed to be able to pull off this goodness thing. For example, He took buckets of water from people who lived in the desert and turned them into wine. I guess it seemed like a pretty good idea until everyone woke up in the morning.
Happy trails.
Whooo-ee! That’s powerful!
Thank you for an inspired post.
Happy trails m’dear.
Lots of love to you on your journey home! – Martha W.