Maybe I just needed to bitch about something for a minute to add balance to an otherwise wonderful day.
I hope to remember the drive home tonight. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a moment like that. And the colors in the sky couldn’t have been more perfect. Right in front of me. All the way down four eighty five. I’m so grateful.
In the cooler August of two thousand thirteen, I released a few slivers. Not because I had to but because I wanted to.
And I think it turned out okay. I think it is all going to turn out okay~
They didn’t take those branches yet and all the leaves turned brown. All the spiders coming out. Moving around. Every time I walk in and out of my front door, even when I am in a hurry, my eyes catch another web.
These tangled webs, moving from damaged, withered leaves.
I think the hardest thing sometimes is just knowing it is okay to move your web. That it’s okay. Maybe the people who are meant to be in your life find a way to move with you in their own way.
Or maybe they find themselves busy, moving their own web.
Maybe a few stay with the leaves.
I’ve been thinking about too much today. About time, threads, paths.
The webs between us. From the beginning to the end and back to the beginning. Until we find ourselves where we were always meant to be~
The way the road works is kind of like this - miles equal memories divided by time broken off by reality in the form of exit signs.
We are caught off guard sometimes, blindsided by our own hearts.
We choose to ask questions of this life that we know we can’t handle the answers to.
We are blindsided by feelings we never expected to feel.
And maybe if we could take all the mirrors in the fun house and crush them into tiny pieces we would roll our organs over those shards until they would finally just bleed out.
But we don’t go collecting shards of glass.
Instead we heal ourselves, we forgive, we eventually exhaust all attempts and we teach ourselves how to let go.
And when we fail miserably at that, we surrender. We drive.
Maybe, maybe we hope in the reflection of our review mirrors we will be greeted by apologies that are meaningful, that heal what has hurt us inside.
But there are only ever headlights, asking us to move over.
I’ve been driving away all my life. Well before I had a permit to do so. It’s always been easier for me. I was out there last night. Among the stars. I was experiencing things. I watched the pelicans and the seagulls this morning. Stared out through out the marshes with the egrets. I parked my car on a side road before the bridge and ate from the low country market.
The mint green and chalked white walls, filled pantries, music bringing me back decades before my time. Dry lavender soda. This is what is mine.
Relationships are not mine.
I have a lot of love inside of me. I know I do. I sat on the side of the road this morning and watched those deer cross the road and I thought God, why can’t somebody be experiencing these things with me??
But I know why. I can’t break down these walls. I can’t abandon the walls I have spent a lifetime creating.
And the toughest sacrifices were the ones I couldn’t see coming.
I hope that one day I will look back on my life and know without a doubt that although I have loved on my own terms in my own silent ways that it mattered. That it really, truly mattered.
I’m hurting right now. I don’t want to be saved. I just want to know that it is okay to just be who I am even if in the big picture of things I have only been a shortcoming. You couldn’t see, you couldn’t see me because I was trapped under these layers, you see. I was trapped. I’m still trapped. And I only ever know one thing to do.
You are going to love it. You are really, really going to love it.
I hope you are able to first come at night, after the sun has retired. Something about crossing that second narrow bridge and traveling into the waters that was simply wonderful. The moon was not much more than a sliver last night, but the stars….
I stopped in the town of Beaufort at an Outback on the account of having a gift card which had been held prisoner in my wallet for way too many months. They sat me right in front of two kangaroos and I thought it to be a good sign. I had brought a book inside with me and ate slowly and read, enjoying my meal. Unfortunately, when I left, I forgot that I brought my camera in with me and left it on the seat….
By the time I left the restaurant it was already dark but it got darker the further down the road I traveled. The parking is tight for these little remote sites and T205 is I suppose the most remote they offer; which means, yes, terrific choosing. Do watch your step if you are walking to your site at night, and watch for cobwebs as well…
I will tell you that this is a lively place. The kind of campground that breathes and has a sense of community. After throwing my tent up, I also grabbed some music and came back out the trees to explore. Colorful lights dressed between motor homes and laughter everywhere. You will find several sites worth of campers hanging out here and there. And you are not limited to people. Possums, raccoons…this morning I awoke to two deer just outside my tent. Small, like key deer.
It’s all very wonderful, but the most wonderful is how dark it gets at T 205. On the little path, look up. The stars literally fall from the sky. Bright, big, beautiful. Ah, how I hope your nights next week are this clear, truly.
I can tell you very little more, on the account that my hours here are few, I need to find my way back up the road by four and still want to put my toes in the sand. I will say this, I have buried my book for you, with a little something for you and Sarah, when you find time to go on another adventure together.
I am grateful I had the urgency to do this. It has been a majestical experience and will add many more words to my journal. I was able to retrieve my camera this morning so I’m in a parking lot next door stealing internet to get this out.
Going back for a few shots, and will post again soon. In the mean time, here’s a little snippet of what you have to look forward to. You are going to love it, my friend. Truly.
Please keep me in your thoughts and prayers, that the rest of this Sunday unfolds as kindly, for both of us, on our opposite ends of the road. Talk with you soon~