The Adventure Continues…
Trust THAT Feeling
“He said, ‘There are only two days in the year that nothing can be done. One is called yesterday and the other is called tomorrow, so today is the right day to love, believe, do and mostly live.” -Dalai Lama
There are various experiences in our lives that encourage us to reevaluate certain beliefs and concepts. Birth of a child, death of a child, end of a long-term relationship, employment change, severe illness are a few examples of those periods.
It wasn’t until I became a grieving momma that I truly understood the concept that nothing I could do or say would change yesterday. No matter how hard I tried, I could not alter the outcome of yesterday. And tomorrow, what an elusive bugger. I quit trying to chase after tomorrow once I detoxed from an exceptionally toxic job. It was one of the best decisions I’d made. No more struggling to get through the day because tomorrow would be better than today.
I’m not certain why I share that pearl of wisdom with you, other than to help clarify where I am in the evolution of finding peace with who/what I am.
I’ve always had a strong, accurate intuition. My internal compass continues to lead my direction and lets me know when I am safe and when to get the hell out of there. Does my intuition whisper too quietly that I don’t hear it? Yes. Do I ignore it? Yes. Do I regret those times? Some of them.
As I wander the highways and various locations I stop to explore, the intuition I possess is a blessing beyond all blessings. A week and a half ago I departed Mammoth Cave National Park in Kentucky and headed west. Around mid-night, the internal calling to rest was loud and clear. I was on the east side of Memphis, Tennessee, and found a truck stop. It was the same type I’d stopped at in Ohio to rest for a couple of hours. Well… this was not the case here. The navigation app lead me to the truck stop where I parked and observed. My internal guidance system was on high alert; I verified the truck doors were locked and continuously checked my surroundings, mirrors and activities in the vicinity. There were plenty of semi-trucks parked in their part of the lot, but still something within was at unease. I was not safe there. Nope. Not safe at all.
With the engine still running, I searched the app for another truck stop hoping to find a safer location. There was another spot to try down the road a couple of miles. I maneuvered through the parking lot and got back on the road. The second truck stop had me on alert as well, but not as intense. Let’s just say, even though I was dog-tired, there was no way I was exiting my truck nor closing my eyes for more than a blink. An older gentleman parked next to me. He paused, looked around at his surroundings before getting out. He walked with intend into the store. Something held me in my parking space to make sure he made it back to his car safely. He did. Once he was inside his car and turned the ignition, I put my truck in drive and headed back to the interstate.
I’d found a Walmart on the navigation app that allowed over-night parking on the west side of the city, and prayed it was safe. I asked daddy and Jeremiah (both on the other side) to help get me there.
Approaching the store parking lot, I repeated, please be safe, please be safe… On the left side of the parking lot was a combination of approximately twenty campers, RV’s and conversion vans. “Oh, thank God,” I said out-loud. To the left there were about six to ten semi-trucks parked. Yes! And the cherry on top was when I saw the little silver car driven by a young man (probably in his mid-thirties) with the word SECURITY written across the side. I had such a release of tension that my shoulders felt like they melted into the seat.
I parked the truck, got out and climbed into my bed in the camper. I got five hours of the deepest sleep this gal could have asked for.
This journey is teaching me before I can get there, I have to be here in this moment.
A Mountaintop Named After A French Gal
My journey led me to Petit Jean State Park in Arkansas. On this adventure I am not asking myself why I am attracted to any specific locations. I simply go. It was there that I emotionally adjusted a lot of “stuff”. Hunkered in camper, I did very little exploring. Instead I reorganized my tiny space, wrote very little (no journal entries) and cried.
Thursday, annoyed that I’d slept a few hours, I ambled to the bathroom at 4 AM and stepped on a sopping wet rug. Son-of-a-bitch. I struggled the day before to get the water hooked up and flush my lines of the winterization fluids the dealership put in the system prior to me picking up the camper (due to freezing overnight temperature in Michigan). The manual had few pictures and lots of if this applies to your unit and, as he said I would, I forgot many of the instructions the man (who rather quickly oriented me on the functioning elements of my camper) provided me.
I’ve never owned a camper. I’ve always been the guest – the non-responsible-of-IT-working person. There I was, emotional from having left my home, missing my family and desperately wanting to hold my grandsons, and I cannot remember what should be simple instructions. I reached out to a dear friend, who owns a camper, and he blindly walked me through the steps and provided me with plenty of helpful tips. Let’s just say that a lot of things-going-wrong-with-the-camper happened that day. In tears, I asked him, “What the hell was I thinking? Why am I doing this? This was the stupidest thing I could have done.” And then I said the faith-busting words, “I’ll pack up in the morning and head for home.”
“Where’s home?” he asked. “Where would you go? You sold your home.”
And there it was. I have no home to go to. I am mourning in this process of detachment all that I left – a sense of home and the predictability of the life I created.
The mountain I resided for seven nights received its name after a French girl who disguised herself as a boy and secretly accompanied her sweetheart (a sailor) to America. Petit Jean left everything behind to be with her love. For me, I left everything behind to gain insight on “me”. A few close friends have told me I will experience true love on this journey – that is, Love of Self. So that’s it. In order to deepen my love of self, first I have to separate from what’s familiar and habitual. Interesting. Good thing my internal compass is leading the way and not a navigational app.
Along the way…
Posts Of Interest…
The Adventure Continues... What I Lost Along The Way“Some beautiful paths can't be discovered without getting lost.” ― Erol OzanI find it interesting that each state, campground, hiking trail, breath of air gifts me a unique “adjustment” to my adventure. At the...
The Adventure Continues... It's Mammoth!“Travel isn’t always pretty. It isn’t always comfortable. Sometimes it hurts, it even breaks your heart. But that’s okay. The journey changes you; it should change you. It leaves marks on your memory, on your consciousness, on...
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